


未来への進撃--Advance to the Future: Bonus Episodes

by CatherineBuntaichou



Series: Advance to the Future:  Extras [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Advance to the Future, Bonus, Bonus Scene, Bonus Scenes, Deleted Scene, Deleted Scenes, Mirai e no Shingeki, Mirashin, Multi, Other, extra, extra scene, extra scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 44,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatherineBuntaichou/pseuds/CatherineBuntaichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Serving as supplements to the main fic, I present to you bonus scenes! (Posted after every ten chapters)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Dangerous Mission

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my friends c:
> 
> These scenes are just extra scenes for MiraShin--if you don't read them, you will still be able to understand the main plot, but if you're looking for more explanation and character development, look no further!

**Bonus Episode** **1: A Dangerous Mission**

 

After entering military training, Marco Bodt was able to make a lot of new friends, but he was almost never without Yasmin by his side. The two had grown up together, after all, and they had come too far to give up on each other now. So, even though Yasmin couldn't stand Jean, and even though Marco was often left out of more “girly” conversations, the two accompanied each other, and one was not usually found without the other.

However, one day after dinner, Yasmin had left early with Milena and the Johnson twins, leaving Marco to fend for himself. He didn't mind, though, and so he turned in his dishes to the kitchen staff without complaints.

“...Eh?”

Marco stopped for a moment, blinking. The dining hall was nearly empty, but there on one of the benches sat a small pink pouch. He paused, looking around; nobody seemed to be paying attention to it.

“Did someone accidentally leave this behind or something?” he wondered out loud as he gently picked it up by the drawstrings. It wasn't heavy, but he didn't dare look inside. After all, it wasn't his, and whatever was inside was none of his business.

Holding it carefully in his hands, Marco quickly returned back to the guys' dorms. Although he didn't recognize the bag to be any one of his friends', maybe one of them would have an idea of whose it was.

“Hey, everyone, I found this in the dining hall!” Marco announced as he reached his room. Armin, Jean, and a few of his other friends were there already; they turned at the sound of his voice, staring at the little pink bag.

“It looks like it belongs to a girl,” Jean said, putting his hands on his hips.

“I hope whoever dropped it isn't in trouble without it,” Marco murmured, holding it out in front of him. He thought of Yasmin, and if she were to lose something... What would her reaction be? She would probably go looking for it right away, but other girls, like Rosaleen, might get more upset about it.

“I wonder whose it is!” Armin exclaimed, hopping off of his bed. He was already dressed for bed, but his eyes were bright and wide awake. “Let's see what's inside!”

Hesitating, Marco looked at Jean with pleading eyes. He enjoyed Armin's playful side, but in this case, he didn't want to get himself into any kind of trouble.

“No way!” he finally said. “They might have something really important inside!”

“So maybe you should give it to Commander Shardis?” Armin suggested.

“But what if it has something inside that the owner doesn't want him to see?” Jean pointed out, frowning. Marco sighed through his nose. At this rate, the person who had lost the bag probably had noticed. What if she went back to check and missed curfew? Or what if she got hurt going out by herself late at night? Again, Marco thought of Yasmin, and he cringed at the thought of being responsible for getting someone into trouble like that.

“You might be right,” Marco agreed, looking at Jean again. “So, I'm just going to give it to the girls right now!”

“What?!” Jean and Armin were staring at him now, but he didn't care; taking the bag from the dining hall had been his choice, and now these were the consequences.

“Don't you think you should wait until tomorrow?!” Jean gasped.

“I just think the owner might be really worried and want it back,” Marco told him, frowning in concern.

“B-But how are you gonna get it there?! The hallway is guarded by the Commander, You'll be in huge trouble if you get caught.”

“I know, but...” Marco lowered his gaze; the idea of someone getting hurt because of him was more disconcerting than getting in trouble himself, but Jean had a good point.

“Don't worry--I just thought of a plan!” Armin cut in, smiling brightly. His big blue eyes were full of mischief, and Marco yet again looked at Jean in concern. “We can just sneak into the girls' dorm through the window using our three-dimensional maneuvering gear!”

“There's no way that's gonna work,” Jean said, sounding both irritated and flustered. “Even if the Commander doesn't catch us--if the girls find out, they'll treat us like perverts for the rest of our lives!”

“Then we can just wait until they leave the room!” Armin replied. “When they've left, we can drop off the bag and leave right away, no problem!”

“But doesn't that mean we have to keep an eye on them until they leave?” Marco asked, his eyes widening. He didn't want to spy on anyone--he just wanted to return the bag.

Just as he was about to suggest something else, Marco heard a quiet gasp from Jean. Looking over at his friend, he could tell that further protest would be useless. Jean was sold on the idea; his flushed cheeks gave him away.

“Well, I mean, if we have to do this now, there's no other way, right?” he said, trying to act casual.

“I guess so,” Marco replied in a low voice. This was not what he'd had in mind...

“All right! Then it's decided!” Armin declared. “Let's get ready to go!” Before either Marco or Jean could say anything else, Armin jumped onto the nearby ladder. “Hey, Eren! ...Wait, what are you doing?”

Eren, who was already in his pajamas like Armin, blinked at Armin, as if confused.

“Well, we have to wake up early tomorrow,” he told his childhood friend.

“Didn't you hear anything we just talked about?!”

“I did, but...I want to be able to kill Titans as soon as I can, so--”

“So then you're OK with ignoring Marco?!” Armin cried.

“That's not what I meant,” Eren replied, which prompted a quiet laugh from Jean. Marco didn't need another moment to know what was coming; Eren and Jean were always butting heads, and it wasn't a day in the Trainees Corps if one wasn't causing a headache for the other.

“Hey, Armin, leave that heartless guy behind and let's get going,” Jean told the blond with a smirk. As expected, Eren's face went dark with anger.

“Who are you calling heartless?!” he shouted down at Jean, who only laughed again.

“OK, fine, you're not heartless--you're just scared.”

“I'm not scared!” Sitting up straight on his bunk, Eren stared Jean down. “Bring it on! I'll go with you guys!”

“Guys, don't fight!!” Marco exclaimed, cutting in before things escalated any further. Let's just get going!”

 

…......

 

“C'mon, Milena, please? For me?”

With one hand gripping a hair brush, Rosaleen used her other hand to reach for Milena's hair. But before she could successfully grab on, Milena swatted her hand away quickly, then covered her head with her hands.

“No,” she grunted. “You have no idea how long this takes me every day.”

“We can put it back up for you,” Erin said, shrugging. “Just let us see.”

“Sorry, roommate privileges only,” Yasmin interrupted, shaking her head. “Only those of us lucky enough to share a room with her get to see the Milena mane.”

“Is that what we're calling it now?” Rosaleen giggled. “I like that.”

“It's admittedly accurate,” Milena mumbled.

“Prove it.”

“No.”

Suddenly, Rosaleen whipped her head toward the window, eyes wide.

“Did you guys just see something?” she asked. Yasmin and Milena exchanged glances, then shook their heads.

“I don't get your tactic, Rosie,” Erin said, raising an eyebrow. “If you're trying to distract her, you're doing a lousy job.”

“No, I'm totally serious. I could swear I just saw something pretty big go flying past our window just now.”

The girls paused, Rosaleen still gripping the hairbrush and Milena still covering her hair. Just as Yasmin opened her mouth to speak, a sound from outside interrupted her.

“Oh my gosh,” Milena breathed. “Did you just hear a cat?”

“It sounded like more than one!” Erin whispered, her green eyes widening with excitement.

“We can't see shit from our window!” Milena shouted, swinging her legs over her bunk. She began to hastily climb down the ladder. “I'm going next door!”

“Wait for me!” Erin cried, following suit.

“And then, your hair!” Rosaleen added, with Yasmin right behind her.

 

…......

 

The walk from the boys' dorm to the girls' dorm was not a long one, and so it didn't take much time for Marco and the others to reach their destination using their gear. Soon they were peering into one of the rooms--Mikasa, Ymir, Krista, and Sasha were there. They looked like they were getting ready to head to the bath, though, which meant that their timing had worked out in their favor after all.

“Let's just keep watching for a little bit,” Armin murmured, staring at the girls. Marco wanted to say no, but they couldn't get in if the girls were there, and they wouldn't know if the girls were there or not without watching.

Suddenly, without any warning, Mikasa whipped her head toward the window. As quickly as he could, Marco pulled away from the window; out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Eren, Jean, and Armin do the same.

“Mikasa noticed!” Eren hissed, his eyes wide. “This is bad!”

“Nobody move!” Armin added, scrunching up his face as if trying to make himself smaller.

Marco pursed his lips, preparing to make a quick getaway if need be, when suddenly he heard the strangest noise from just above him.

“M-Meow! Meeoooow!”

Looking up at Jean, Marco could see that the fake cat noises were indeed coming from his friend.

“Hey, what are you doing?!” Eren whispered from the other side of the window.

“At this rate she's gonna figure us out!” Jean hissed in reply. “Just do what I'm doing and try to trick her!”

Reluctantly, Eren mustered out a quiet “meow,” followed by a halfway convincing attempt from Armin. Marco, after glancing up at the starry night sky, wondering why he was in this situation, and questioning his choice of friends, let out the closest noise to a cat's yowl that he could.

To his relief and surprise, Mikasa soon turned away from the window. She then joined the others again, and the four gathered up their things and left the room.

“That was close,” Eren breathed, letting out a shaky sigh. “She's pretty sharp.”

“Hey,” Armin murmured, staring into the now empty room, “ wouldn't it have been a good idea to give the bag to Mikasa?”

“You're right!” Marco gasped; he heard Eren and Jean shout the same thing in exasperation.

“Dammit, we instinctively hid from her...!” Eren added.

“Let's just go in already!” Jean said, gritting his teeth in obvious frustration.

A few moments later, Armin and Jean had managed to open the window, and the four entered the empty room.

“So this is the girls' room,” Armin said, looking around.

“It's exactly the same style as our room, but it feels so different,” Jean admitted, his eyes lingering on what appeared to be Mikasa's bunk.

Gently, Marco took the bag out of his pocket and placed it on one of the bottom bunks. He smiled, feeling relieved.

“We can just leave it here,” he told the others.

“All right, then let's go back,” Eren replied, a hand on his hip as he looked down at the bag.

With a loud bang, the door to the girls' room flew open.

“I forgot my towel,” Mikasa said, apparently speaking to herself, since the expression on her face changed upon seeing the four boys in the room. Marco felt a chill run up his spine; of all people to come into the room and find them like this, Mikasa was his last choice. A scream came out of him before he could stop himself, but he wasn't the only one. In fact, all five of the trainees were screaming in surprise.

“Why are you here, Eren!?” Mikasa asked, looking flustered. At this point, Krista, Ymir, and Sasha had returned to the room.

“I-I just followed these guys!” Eren stammered, backing away from the girls.

“You're gonna shift the blame onto us!?” Jean shouted, glaring at Eren.

“Are you trying to...?” To Marco's surprise, Mikasa's face flushed pink, and Eren's face grew even more frightened.

“What the hell are you thinking?!”

Before Mikasa could answer that question, four more familiar faces showed up in the doorway. Milena gasped, turning to Yasmin.

“I thought you said he was a nice guy!” she exclaimed.

“Marco, what the hell!?” Yasmin cried, looking bewildered. Marco flinched at her tone; he could tell she was pissed.

“I-I just wanted to--”

“Get out of here!” Rosaleen and Erin shrieked in unison.

Marco opened his mouth to try to explain, but he was too slow. Beside him, Armin, Eren, and Jean were already readying their gear and heading toward the window again. Sighing, Marco had no choice but to join them.

“This is why I said you shouldn't be friends with Jean!” Yasmin shouted out the window after him. Marco sighed again, following his friends back to the dorm.

“I can't believe this,” Jean muttered, his scowl just barely visible in the moonlight.

“What great timing,” Eren added, his voice leaded with sarcasm.

“Well...I'm glad we were at least able to return that bag,” Marco admitted in a quiet voice.

“Marco, you're too nice for your own good,” Jean groaned, and Marco let out a laugh.

_ Even if we got into a little bit of trouble, making memories like these will be worth it in the end, I guess, _ he thought, smiling to himself. ... _ I'm grateful. _

 


	2. Supplementary Education

**Bonus Episode 2: Supplementary Education**

 

“So...I'm a little confused...”

Yasmin watched as Milena grimaced and crossed her arms.

“Commander Shardis called this 'supplementary education,' right? But I can't possibly imagine why he would split us up into groups like this, and why he would separate boys and girls, unless...”

“I know where you're going with this,” Yasmin admitted, matching Milena's expression. The blonde sighed in reply.

Typically, for the trainees of the 104 th cadet class, Tuesdays were dedicated to the academic portion of their training, and the whole day was spent in the classroom. Granted, they were usually divided into groups, and they rotated from lesson to lesson that way, but today was totally different. 

Just as Milena had said, the boys and girls were separated into two groups; they were then further divided by room number. Yasmin and Milena were in the same group as Erin and Rosaleen, luckily, and between the two rooms, there were sixteen girls in their group.

When Yasmin and Milena entered the classroom, they did not see any sign of any of their regular professors. Instead, at the front of the room, there were a few girls wearing cadet uniforms.

“...Now I'm  _ really _ confused,” Milena murmured. Yasmin eyed the girls; though their uniforms were the same as hers, she didn't recognize any of them.

“They must be from one of the classes above us,” she concluded, and Milena shrugged.

“C'mon, Erin and Rosaleen are already here. Let's go sit down.”

Nodding, Yasmin followed Milena over to where the Johnson twins were sitting. They smiled upon seeing the girls; Rosaleen eagerly patted the chair beside her, and Milena sat down.

“D'you have any idea what's going on?” she asked the blonde.

“Kind of,” Milena confessed.

“Who are those girls?” Erin wondered out loud. “I can't place any of them. I've never seen them around our dorm.”

“They must be upperclassmen,” Yasmin told her. “I don't recognize them, either, but they don't look old enough to be recent graduates.”

“Is everyone here?” a girl with short, light-brown hair asked, looking around the room.

“We're the last people for our group,” Mikasa said, sitting down next to Yasmin; Annie took a seat next to her.

“Good, then let's get this over with.”

Turning on her heel, the girl walked over to her three comrades, none of whom looked excited to be there.

“Some of you have probably figured out what's going on today,” one of the other girls said, pursing her lips. “We represent the 103 rd class of cadets, and we have been assigned the task of giving you a supplementary lesson today. Please listen closely, because this lesson will not be repeated.”

“And we aren't going to test you on it, either,” the girl from earlier added, putting her hands on her hips. “This is something you have to know for your own good.”

“Anyway, we'll go ahead and introduce ourselves before continuing.” Saluting, the blonde said, “My name is Caprice Valois.”

“I'm Hitch Driess,” the brunette from earlier said, also saluting.

“I'm Serene Hastings,” a shy-looking girl with short, white-blonde hair said.

“I'm Margaret Thomas,” the final girl said, saluting quickly before turning to the chalkboard. “Today, you've been separated from the boys in order to properly educate you on a few things only you girls will really need to worry about.”

As Margaret spoke, Serene and Hitch spread out a large wall scroll and held it from opposite ends. On the scroll were several illustrations and charts of the female body.

_ I knew it, _ Yasmin thought, sighing through her nose. 

“What's going on?” Rosaleen whispered to Milena; the blonde only shook her head.

“Rosaleen, if you don't get it now, you will soon,” she replied, putting her chin in her hands.

“Get what? I'm so confused.”

“Some of you who are older might already know all of this,” Margaret continued, turning to the girls again. “But since there are so many of you from different family backgrounds and what not, it's required that we teach you these things so as to make your lives easier and to make you prepared for what's to come.”

“And don't worry--the boys have their own lecture to sit through, too,” Hitch added with a smirk.

“We had to take this same class, taught by the cadets in the class ahead of us, just like you,” Serene said, smiling gently. “Some of you might even have to teach this class next year to the class below you. It's just how things work.”  
“Anyway, enough explanation--let's continue with the actual lesson.” Caprice glanced at Hitch and Serene, then walked over to the scroll, pointing to the first picture. “Most of you are twelve or thirteen by now, and as you may or may not already know, this is the most common age for girls to start puberty. Maybe some of you are already starting to notice, but your body physically goes through changes that are going to affect the way you wear your gear.”

Without any warning, Caprice suddenly pulled off her uniform jacket and short-sleeved shirt to reveal an undecorated, nude-colored corset.

“This is called a demi-corset,” Caprice explained, pointing to corset. “Because I'm not wearing any gear right now, this is fine to wear and won't get in the way.”

Margaret then stepped forward, and just as Caprice had done, she removed her jacket and shirt to reveal a slightly different corset.

“This is a bodice, and it's also more for casual wear than for under your uniforms,” she told them. “Probably most of your mothers wear these, or maybe stays. It just depends on the clothing and what you'll be doing while wearing it.”

“However, with our gear, we have a belt right across the chest,” Caprice pointed out. “Wearing what I'm wearing right now will make that belt super uncomfortable and could even cause harm to your body, depending on how big your breasts are.”

Caprice pointed to another picture on the chart, which appeared to be a comparison between two female bodies. One body had a normal looking chest, while the other body's breasts were clearly unhealthy.

“Oh my gosh,” Rosaleen gasped quietly, clutching her chest.

“I don't think I want to go through puberty. Ever,” Erin muttered, green eyes wide in disgust.

“Using a corset or bodice while wearing your gear can damage your body, but just taping down your chest isn't good for you, either,” Margaret explained. “I know it sounds stupid, but there's a real method to this, and if you don't follow it, you can end up screwing up your body for good.”

“Serene, Hitch, if you could.”

Yasmin watched in silence as Serene and Hitch rolled the scroll up and set it down on the ground. She had already heard the puberty spiel from her mother, and so she was not so surprised to learn that the military had gone so far as to find ways for women to safely wear the three-dimensional maneuvering gear. But she could see from the expressions on their faces that several of her peers were hearing this information for the first time. Especially amusing was Rosaleen, who was red-faced and looked incredibly uncomfortable.

Just as Caprice and Margaret had done before, Serene removed her jacket and shirt; however, she was completely naked underneath. The scene caught every one of the 104 th girls off-guard. 

“What is going on!?” Rosaleen squeaked into her hands. Her face was now as red as her hair.

“Krista, don't look,” Yasmin heard Ymir from behind her.

“Hey, settle down! This is important!” Hitch shouted, putting her hands on her hips impatiently. Serene stood beside her, her face flushed. “The longer you talk, the longer  _ she _ has to stand up here naked!”

After a few more seconds of murmuring and the like, the girls quieted down and waited for the rest of the lesson.

“This is for you girls to know--the guys have their own lesson about their  _ own _ problems,” Hitch went on, the smirk reappearing on her face. “Serene is nice enough to volunteer herself as the live demonstrator for the proper use of jumps. Jumps are what you'll use in place of corsets and the like whenever you're wearing your gear.”

As Hitch spoke, Caprice handed Serene a nude-colored piece of clothing. Slowly, Serene unlaced the so-called jump and wrapped it around her body.

“You'll receive these jumps from the nurses at camp, and whatever regiment you join, there will be a supply available there also,” Hitch said. “The ones they have are specially designed for use with the gear--they have only slight boning in them, and they lace up the front. Occasionally, though, they run out of front-lacing ones, so you'll have to use the back-lacing. In which case, have a friend help you out, yeah?”

“I-It's not so hard to lace them up, really,” Serene told the girls as she began to thread the lace ribbon through. “My hands are shaking so it's just kind of hard right now.” She let out a quiet laugh before continuing. “You don't want to pull it too tight--it's not a corset, after all. This is to protect your breasts while keeping them out of the way of the gear. They're not too uncomfortable, either. ...There.”

Serene finished lacing up the jump, knotting the ends off in a small bow. In response, Hitch burst into a round of applause. Slowly and hesitantly, the others started to clap as well.

“Can we go now?” Erin whispered, and Yasmin shook her head; Milena did the same. Judging by the amount of charts left untouched by the 103 rd girls, they were nowhere close to done.

“All right, so there's that,” Caprice said as Serene hastily put her shirt back on. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, I've got one--how do we prevent the guys from trying to undo them?”

The question came from Ymir, who looked disgruntled. Krista sat beside her with a reddened face and wide blue eyes. Her hands were on her cheeks; she had likely been covering her eyes just as Ymir had commanded earlier.

“Actually, someone in our class tried that last year with Caprice,” Margaret admitted.

“Really?!” Gasps and whispers flew around the room.

_ Great. All it's going to take is some pervert like Jean to cause chaos, _ Yasmin thought, frowning. 

“What happened to him?” Krista asked.

“He was asked to leave politely,” Caprice told them.

“And it was awkward for everyone,” Hitch said with a sigh.

“They'll likely warn the guys over at their lesson,” Margaret added. “But to answer your question, there's really not a good way.”

“Unless you threaten them,” Hitch admitted. “Because you know, if you just--”

“L-Let's just move on!” Serene exclaimed, her aqua eyes widening as she grabbed Hitch's arm. “We have so much left to cover, anyway!”

“She's right,” Caprice said. “Now, we'll continue with a lesson in regards to why you're separated from the guys here at camp...”

From the corner of her eye, Yasmin noticed Mikasa lean forward in interest, while Ymir sat back in her chair with a bored expression on her face.

_ Oh, the memories we'll have from this _ , she thought, smirking to herself.  _ The military is nothing like I expected, after all.  _

 


	3. An Unusual Hobby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so sorry that these next two are released late! I hope you're able to enjoy them anyway OTL

Quickly running a hand through her long, messy hair, Catherine breathed a quiet sigh through her nose as she watched Eld and Gunther conversing from across the room.

“It's like they've forgotten all about us,” she mumbled, looking at Rowen with an overcast face.

“Well, they  _ have _ made other friends in their special squad,” Rowen pointed out.

“Yeah, but it's been like this for years now. Do you think they maybe just never liked us from the start?”

“I guess that's always a possibility.”

Drumming her fingers on the table, Catherine side-eyed the pair once again. She couldn't help but feel a little left out every time she saw them talking. They used to all hang out and be much closer, but things had changed over the years.

“I feel like we got ripped off, in a way.” Her gaze shifted back to her best friend, who gave her a sympathetic smile. “Do you get what I mean?”

“It's probably the same way Bruno feels about us.”

Trying to hide the wave of guilt that washed over her, Catherine gritted her teeth.

“Except that we still talk to him.”

“But it's been a while,” Rowen told her gently. “And we don't mean any malice by it. That's just how life is. Besides, we've made other friends here, too. And if you're so desperate to talk to one of them, look--here comes Moblit now.”

Catherine turned to where Rowen's eyes were fixed; sure enough, the nervous brunet was headed their way, a small smile on his flushed face.

“So, how much have you already had to drink, Moblit?” she asked as he sat down beside her.

“Not enough,” he laughed quietly.

“Squad Leader Hanji is as energetic as ever, I assume?” Rowen said with a grin, putting his chin in his hand.

“Look who's talking,” Catherine replied, mimicking his gesture.

“Who, me? Cause trouble?”

“Every day of my life, you lovable fuck.”

“I don't know how you handle yours,” Moblit joked to Catherine, grinning. She smiled at her senior, shrugging.

“Well, I  _ do _ have several years of experience up on you, Moblit,” she answered. 

Moblit's laughter darkened a bit.

“I honestly don't know how I've survived up until this point,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

“Moblit! There you are!”

Hanji's voice broke into the conversation like shattering glass. With a wild laugh, she plopped down in between Catherine and Moblit, throwing an arm around the latter. Catherine could smell the wine in her breath.

“I've been looking for you!” she exclaimed, ruffling her companion's hair with her free hand. “Don't just go wandering off like that!”

“Squad Leader, I was just trying to talk to--”

“Hey there, Rowen, Cat!”

“Not you, too...” Catherine muttered upon hearing the nickname. It seemed to finally be spreading around members of the Survey Corps (though it had taken several years).

“What are you guys doing sitting all by your lonesome?” Hanji asked, releasing her grip on Moblit. “You two are always doing that--and one of us is always having to come over and butt in to get you two to socialize.”

“It's all Cat's fault,” Rowen said quickly. In response, Catherine shot him an icy glare. “What? Why are you so mad? It's true.” Rowen turned to Hanji, grinning. “She even said she'd rather be studying than at a party.”

“Well, I can sympathize with you there.” Hanji turned her gaze to meet Catherine's; an understanding smile was upon her flushed, sweaty face. “Nanaba mentioned it to me before, but you study some stuff to do with linguistics, right?”

Catherine felt herself blush; nobody besides Rowen had ever shown any interest in her studies before, and considering the amount of effort she put into her private research, it felt a bit like she was putting herself on the chopping block by bringing it up in conversation. Still, if anyone would understand, it would have to be Squad Leader Hanji--or at least, that's what Catherine decided.

“I study dead languages,” she confessed, running a hand through her hair again. “What I'm particularly stuck on right now, though, is this language that doesn't really seem to appear in typical history books. I can't find much information about it, and I've found a grand total of one written works...and even then, I got that through some...dealings, you might say.”

“Wait, what?” Hanji perked up; her full focus was on Catherine now. “Can you tell me a little more about this forgotten language?”

“Well...what I know is this: the language that we speak now is a blend of dialects that came together when people were crammed into the walls. And we all do speak slightly different dialects depending on where we were raised, yeah? But this one language doesn't fit any of the dialect patterns we still use today,” Catherine explained. As she spoke, her words began to slur with excitement and the speed of her speech. “There's nothing written about a disappearing language in any history book I've ever seen, and considering the amount of written records that have been banned by the government, it makes me wonder if this language isn't somehow connected to all of that.”

There was a brief pause, and then--

“THIS IS AMAZING! INCREDIBLE!” Hanji shrieked, gripping Catherine by the shoulders. “I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU ACTUALLY--”

“Oi, four-eyes.”

Catherine glanced away from Hanji's face to see none other than Captain Levi standing there. He looked as unamused as ever, and his disposition seemed even more cold in comparison to Hanji's fevered excitement.

“Your voice is going to break a window,” he muttered, slapping Hanji on the back of the head lightly. “What the hell are you yelling about?”

“Research, Levi!” Hanji cried, releasing Catherine and turning to the short-tempered Captain. “LEARNING!”

“Good god, woman. And you're boring these two to tears with it?”

“No!” Hanji said indignantly, crossing her arms and pouting a bit. “Catherine actually  _ likes _ this kind of stuff.”

Catherine had never met Captain Levi one on one before, and in that moment she could feel the harsh judgment going on behind his steely grey-blue eyes. The thought of being lumped in with the neurotic Hanji made her panic, and she couldn't help but become a bit tense. At the same time, though, she slipped into a defensive mode; her hobby may have sounded weird, but she loved doing it all the same, and who was he to judge her for that?

“She studies dead languages!” Hanji continued as Levi stared Catherine down. “And she might just be the one to pass on all those books to! And that journal!”

“...You don't mean...Isle's journal?” Levi murmured, breaking eye contact with Catherine to look at Hanji. “You can't be serious.”

“I'm dead serious! The language that Catherine just explained to me sounds just like the language all of those books are written in!”

“Wait, what?” Catherine whipped her head around to face Hanji again. “You mean you have books in that language?!”

“I do! Or at least, I think so!” Hanji gripped Catherine's hand. “On the last mission we went out on, we found the journal of a Survey Corps soldier who claimed she could communicate with a Titan. When I brought her journal to her parents, they gave me some more books to add to the collection, as well as all kinds of documents.”

“Are you serious?!” Catherine gasped. She could feel her heart beating in her chest.

“Oh, there she goes,” Rowen said with a sigh. “She only gets excited about two things: books and snow.”

“Shut up, Rowen,” Catherine snapped. “This is fucking important.”

“I don't get why that would be connected to Isle's journal,” Levi said, frowning at the two women.

“Don't you see, Levi?!” Hanji shouted, grabbing Levi's arm with her other hand and bringing him down closer to Catherine and herself. “What if Isle's family knows things that the others aren't allowed to know?! What if they know about Ymir's 'people'?! What if that information is in those books, but only Catherine can read them!?”

“ _ Can  _ you read them?” Levi asked, and Catherine nodded. 

“THIS IS AMAZING!” Hanji screamed; her voice echoed in Catherine's head. “Catherine, if I give you all of those books and what not, you can translate them! And then maybe we can find out something new! And by finding out something new, maybe we can get even closer to understanding Titans!” Hanji gasped, releasing both Levi and Catherine. “Maybe...Maybe we can learn the  _ proper way to capture them!! _ ”

“Squad Leader, please calm down!” Moblit cried, but it was too late. Hanji was already standing on top of the table.

“THINK OF THE OPPORTUNITIES THIS COULD BRING US!” she shouted, laughing heartily.

“Goddammit, you shit-head,” Levi said, glaring up at Hanji, who had now attracted everyone's attention. “Get down off of the table.”

“NEVER!”

“Catherine, just tell her you'll take the books so she'll shut up,” Levi ordered the brunette, who pursed her lips.

“I don't think that's going to stop her,” she told him.

“Then go get Erwin.”

“Why don't  _ you _ get him?” 

“Because leaving you two nerds together any longer is going to cause a cataclysm right in this dining hall. Go.”

“Fine,” Catherine grunted, whirling around. “What a rude little fuck,” she then muttered to herself as she pushed through the crowd of Survey Corps soldiers to find Commander Erwin.

From behind her, Catherine could hear Hanji's drunken shouts about “the new revolution,” and though she felt a bit embarrassed for the Squad Leader, she also felt a wave of excitement from those words. Since joining the Survey Corps, she had felt as if she had been stuck in a roadblock, with only personal research keeping her going strong. But now, with the possibility of new information right at her fingertips--and being the only one able to access it--Catherine felt a surge of energy coursing through her body for the first time in a long, long time.

_ I don't doubt my choice to join the Survey Corps, _ she realized, a smile appearing on her face.  _ Hanji is right--this is amazing. _

 


	4. Rain

“On any other day, this would not even be a big deal.” Sighing loudly, Yasmin leaned back against the wall behind her, turning to face her best friend. “It  _ would  _ happen when we're stuck in here.”

“You make it sound like you didn't want to come over to hang out,” Marco said with his usual good-natured laugh.

“Only for a little while!” Erin told him, her bright green eyes widening as she glanced out the window. As far as the eye could see, the sky was a green-grey color, and any scenery was blurred by a heavy downpour.

“How long do you think they'll make us stay in here?” Sasha wondered, looking around the room.

Yasmin shrugged, sighing again. It had admittedly been her idea to go over to the guys' dorm to hang out for a while, since the weather was too poor to do any real training. When they had left their rooms, it was only an average rainfall, with not much wind. But the storm that had developed brought forth ominous skies and strong gusts that sounded like they could blow out a window.

Just before the girls had been able to leave, an order was issued: since the storm was so severe, everyone would be required to remain where they were until further notice. And so, Yasmin found herself stuck in the boys' dorm with Erin and Sasha. Rosaleen and Milena were likely still stuck in the mess hall, and Mina and Hannah were last seen back in their room.

“Are you worried about the others?” Reiner asked the girls, folding his muscular arms across his broad chest. His expression was soft with understanding.

“Aren't you?” Erin replied. “Half of your roommates are still at lunch.”

“They'll be fine, as long as they stay where they are,” Marco assured her.

“Yeah, not even an idiot like me would go out in this storm by choice,” Connie added with a crooked grin.

“Mmm...maybe...” Erin lowered her gaze to her lap.

“Don't worry about her, Erin,” Yasmin said, sitting upright. “She'll be fine.”

“Oh, I don't doubt that she can handle herself,” Erin said quickly, shaking her head. Her short red hair waved around her face. “Especially teamed up with Milena, there's nothing those two can't handle. It's just that...” Erin's voice trailed off.

“I get it,” Reiner said suddenly.

“What?” Erin gasped, looking up at the blond.

“Yeah.” Reiner paused, and Yasmin stared at him. She wasn't sure if he was just trying to help Erin feel better, or if he really understood her feelings. It had been six months since they joined the military, and she had seen Reiner nearly every day since the beginning, but he was still quite hard to read. His moods varied often, and she had seen him act both genuinely kind as well as fake-nice. But he  _ did _ talk to the twins quite often, too, and so his sympathy seemed real.

“Your sister worries about you a lot, right?” Reiner then asked Erin, who reddened a little, as if embarrassed. “I guess that's just what siblings do, but close friends do it, too. Marco, you worry about Yasmin, don't you?”

“Yeah,” Marco murmured in response.

“Why?” Reiner asked.

“Because I care about her. She's like my family,” Marco explained.

“Exactly.” Reiner smiled at Marco, then at Erin. “My point is, it doesn't matter if you're bound by blood or not--if you care about someone enough, they become like your family. And when that happens, you worry about them.”

“So are you saying you have someone like that?” Sasha asked, smiling.

“Bertholdt, right?” Erin said quietly, and Reiner nodded in confirmation.

“Though I'll admit that  _ he _ does most of the worrying,” he added with a laugh. 

“He seems like he's  _ always _ worried,” Yasmin teased. “What are you doing to make that poor guy that nervous?”

Reiner laughed again, scratching the back of his neck.

“I think it's just his personality,” Reiner answered. “He worries about everything and is always stressed out, but he doesn't give me much to be worried about, to be honest.”

“Yeah, he's too quiet to get into trouble,” Connie agreed.

“I don't think I've ever seen him raise his voice, either!” Sasha exclaimed, eyes wide. “How does he do it?!”

“I don't know, but I  _ can _ tell you he's a strong guy.” Reiner's smile was wide and beaming; Yasmin recognized it as a smile of pride. “Right now, I'm safe and sound here, and  _ he's _ the one who's stuck in the mess hall, but he's not worried about himself. Instead, he's bound to be worried about me. I think that's strength--caring for others more than yourself.” 

As if praising him for an award-winning speech, Connie and Sasha burst into applause.

“That's so beautiful!” Sasha cried, throwing herself at Reiner's feet from her spot on the floor.

“Well said, Reiner!” Connie exclaimed. “You make the rest of us look bad, y'know?”

Embarrassed, Reiner chuckled under his breath.

“Anyway, what I wanted to say was that, you shouldn't be ashamed of worrying about your sister, Erin,” the blond said, smiling.

“Ah, well...” Erin blushed, glancing around the room nervously. “I feel a little bad, because the reason I am most worried about her is that I'm afraid she'll try something to come find me because  _ she's _ even more worried. Like I told Yasmin, Rosie can handle herself--except when it comes to me.”

“And so that triggers you worrying about her in exchange?” Marco asked, and the red-head nodded.

“But she's the one more likely to do something about it, while usually I just don't do anything,” Erin admitted. “I guess that makes me a bit too passive, huh?”

“I don't think that's a bad thing, though,” Yasmin chimed in.

“I agree with you,” Reiner said, nodding slowly, as if to himself more than Erin or Yasmin. “Different types of people react in different ways, so it only makes sense that you're not exactly the same--despite being twins. Honestly, it's probably better that you're more calm and collected. That kind of trait balances Rosaleen's energy.”

“What do you mean?” Erin asked, folding her knees to her chest. Her large green eyes gazed up at where Reiner sat on his bunk.

“Well, Bertholdt and I are the same way--he stays calm in situations where I lose my temper or patience. I won't deny it...I rely on his being calm to make myself stay calm, too. Your sister is probably the same way.”

Humming a low note, Erin's gaze dropped to the floor. Yasmin stole a glance at Marco; he seemed to be thinking over Reiner's words, too. It was obvious that Reiner had given this all a lot of thought; it was also touching to think that he had thought about his friendship with Bertholdt that much.

“But when Bertholdt gets anxious or upset, I'm terrible at calming him down--that's the one downside,” Reiner continued, sighing. “I guess he needs someone more like you to do that, Erin--someone who understands his point of view.”

Yasmin watched as Erin's already rosy cheeks turned an even brighter shade of pink.

“B-But I'm sure he needs you more than you realize!” Erin stammered.

Before she could continue her appeal, she was interrupted by a sudden figure in the doorway. Yasmin could tell from only a glance who it was; the smug look on his face could be seen a mile away.

“As much as I hate to have you ladies leave, they lifted the ban on going outside,” Jean Kirschstein said, leaning against the door frame.

“Sorry, have we stolen away time from your precious Marco?” Yasmin asked coolly, sliding over to her freckled best friend.

“Yasmin, don't be mean...” Marco murmured as Yasmin wrapped her arm around his shoulders protectively. 

“Nah, I just got a little tired of hearing your voice,” Jean replied. “I thought I got away from the nagging when I moved out from home, y'know?”

“Jean, why don't you go let the others know?” Reiner interrupted, getting to his feet.

Whether he was swayed by his respect for the blond, or intimidated by his size, Jean huffed a sigh and left without another word.

“C'mon, we should get going,” Sasha said to the girls, and Yasmin nodded, removing her arm and standing. Erin nodded as well, then looked at Reiner.

“Why don't you come with us?” she suggested. “The sooner Bertholdt knows you're safe, the better off he'll be, right?”

A smile appearing on his face yet again, Reiner gave her a firm nod; the young man followed the trio of girls out of the room and out into the drizzle.

Pulling the hood of her jacket over her head, Yasmin squinted out into the rain toward the mess hall. Though both the rain and the wind had died down, a fog had started to roll in; she could feel the steam beading on her skin and blending with the rainwater on her face.

Luckily, the boys' dorm wasn't so far from the mess hall, and though they were soaking wet by the time they reached the front porch, they were no worse for wear. Though, even if they had been even a bit miserable, seeing everyone safe and sound was worth it.

“I can't believe that just happened!” Milena cried, pulling Yasmin into a hug.

“It wasn't  _ that _ bad of a storm,” Yasmin mumbled, hugging her roommate back.

“Are you kidding me?! Did you  _ hear _ the wind? It sounded like a tornado was going to pass through!”

Yasmin just laughed, patting the blonde on the head.

Turning, she could see Rosaleen squeezing Erin tightly. The former's face was white with lingering fear, and her green eyes were wide with relief.

“Don't make me worry like that ever again!” Rosaleen exclaimed, her voice shaking as she ruffled her twin sister's short hair.

“I didn't make you worry--you worried all on your own, as per usual,” Yasmin heard Erin reply.

“You're such a brat!”

“You act like I wasn't worried, too.”

Rosaleen let out a laugh in response to Erin's words, but Yasmin could see tears in her eyes.

Beside them stood Reiner and Bertholdt; the latter looked beyond relieved, while the former clapped a hand on his best friend's shoulder. Bertholdt, pursed his lips, running a hand through his sweaty brown hair.

“That was pretty rough, wasn't it?” Reiner laughed, and Bertholdt let out a shaky sigh.

“I'm just glad it's over,” he mumbled.

“What, was being stuck in there that tiring?” When Bertholdt nodded, Reiner added, “Even more tiring than being with me?”

“Well...” Yasmin watched as a small smile crept onto Bertholdt's face, then as Reiner grinned broadly. She felt a smile appear on her own face.

“Let's go back to the dorm,” she told Milena, who nodded, smiling brightly.

“Yeah, before anything else crazy happens!”

Yasmin's smile brightened in response. But it wasn't Milena's words that caused it; it was the thought of other people having someone special in their lives that made her feel so happy. She already felt so lucky having Marco around, and Milena was quickly becoming her close friend. Yasmin knew what kind of good feelings those two brought her, so seeing that same happiness displayed in other people's relationships made her feel ecstatic.

_ This is why I love people _ , she realized as she followed Milena out into the rain again.  _ This is why I think the world is worth protecting. _

 


	5. Homecomings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For every soul lost, there is one left behind.

Rosaleen could taste blood in her mouth; she had been biting her lip so much over the past couple of days that it wasn't any surprise. In reality, she welcomed the pain and that strange iron flavor, because it was the only thing distracting her from the way her life had fallen apart.

Erin, her beloved sister, was dead. It was fact, but for Rosaleen, it felt more like one of those cliché never-ending nightmares that always showed up in the novels she read as a child. She was the older twin, and while that didn't matter much to anyone else, it mattered to her--it meant that she was supposed to be the one to protect Erin.

But she had failed. She was never maternal enough, never thoughtful enough, never wise enough--and before, it hadn't really had any impact on their lives. Now it was as if it had all caught up to her, and this was her punishment.

Despite the stinging pain, Rosaleen bit her bottom lip yet again as she walked down the familiar streets of her home district, Stohess. She could already see the front door of her house, and her grip on her sister's belongings tightened.

It would have been far easier to deliver the cloak of a stranger to that stranger's family, but Rosaleen was not so fortunate. But it was either this, or let a stranger bring home Erin's things, and Rosaleen did not want to take away from the importance of her sister, even if she had died so early in her life.

 _She didn't even make it to the Garrison_ , Rosaleen thought as she approached the front door of her house. _...Why is this happening?_

Rosaleen felt almost robotic as she knocked on the door. Any other time, she would have knocked in a flustered hurry, then immediately burst into the house, announcing her arrival at the top of her lungs. That had always annoyed her parents, but Erin thought it was funny every single time.

_My idiot sister--that's what you called me, and you weren't wrong._

A few moments of silence passed before the door opened, revealing a middle-aged man with bright red hair and large hazel eyes.

“...Rosaleen!?” he gasped, reaching for his daughter. It was all Rosaleen could do to stand still as he hugged her. She wanted to turn and run away, but it was too late--her mother had caught sight of her now, too.

“Rosie! You're home!!” she cried, running out to greet her. She soon joined in on the embrace. As she felt her parents' arms around her, Rosaleen brought Erin's cloak in closer to her chest. It would be their last family group hug; this would be the last time they'd be together.

“Rosaleen, what's wrong?” Her father, Seamas, finally released Rosaleen and looked her in the eyes. “You're crying...”

She hadn't even realized that she was crying, honestly. Her grip on Erin's cloak tightened, and the bag resting on her hip seemed to grow heavier.

“Rosaleen.”

Rosaleen perked up at the sound of a third voice--she soon met eyes with her beloved grandfather, Alastar, who was now standing in the doorway. Her parents had come rushing at her so quickly and with such bright faces, but Alastar was different; she could tell that he understood why she was here. It only made sense, seeing as he had been a soldier himself once.

“Grandpa, I...” Rosaleen's voice caught in her throat as her body began to shake with sobs. “...I failed... I f-failed all of you...”

The air grew heavy around the teen as she watched her parents' faces fall. She could see them coming to the right conclusion, and so, not knowing what else to do, Rosaleen held out her sister's cloak.

“Erin...” she whispered, unable to continue. She didn't need to--she could tell now that they understood.

“No,” her mother breathed, clutching at her chest and shaking her head. “No, no...”

Her father said nothing; instead he pulled his wife into his arms and held her there.

Rosaleen didn't want to interrupt them, but she felt as if she would shatter if she continued to watch them sob. She couldn't even hold back her own tears, and she was still standing on the front step holding Erin's cloak out, as if she was the reaper and not allowed inside. For a moment, she wondered if it would be best just to leave, to keep her sister's things and just let her family pretend it was all a bad dream.

“Come here, child.” Before she could register what was happening, Rosaleen felt her grandfather embrace her tightly, petting her head with his strong hand. “You poor thing.”

As always, Alastar knew exactly what to say to her. She had always appreciated him growing up, but now she felt even more attached to him. He understood, he knew what it was like. He was a soldier once.

Finally, after several long minutes of uncontrollable sobbing, Alastar gently took Erin's cloak out of Rosaleen's hands, then took the satchel off of her shoulder and put it around his own.

“Rosaleen,” Alaster murmured. “What will you do now?”

“...As if I could stay here now,” she whispered, hanging her head. “I have...a job to do... I can't fail again...”

“I'm glad.”

 _Thank you for believing in me_ , she wanted to say as she looked up into her grandfather's kind eyes. But the words were caught in her throat again. She felt that by saying them out loud, she would lose something. Was it because Erin had trusted her in that same way? Always believing in her without fail? Rosaleen had always just thanked her and accepted it as the way things were, as her role...

 _Since when have I been so...passive_?

 

…......

 

Yasmin felt incredibly childish as she stood on the Bodt's front porch. She had volunteered to do this--she had wanted to be the one to deliver Marco's belongings back to his mother. But she was just as inadept for the job as anyone else that could have volunteered. Her mouth felt dry and, no matter how much she begged her mind to cooperate, all tact and eloquence was out of her grasp.

There was no doubt in Yasmin's mind that Freya Bodt was sitting on the other side of the door, and judging by the muffled voices, her own mother was there, too.

 _I should have thought of this,_ she realized, her grip on Marco's cloak tightening. _I should have known that they'd be together. They're always together, just like me and..._

Yasmin inhaled deeply; she could already smell the familiar scent of the Bodt's kitchen, and it made her so nostalgic that she wanted to throw up.

 _I should have just let Jean do this_ , she thought, gritting her teeth. _...No. Because then Freya... It has to be me..._

Lifting her eyes to the cloudy sky above her, Yasmin finally let out all of the air in her lungs in a shaky sigh.

_Marco, this is the least I can do for you now. Even though I owe you so much more than this..._

Returning her gaze forward, Yasmin reached out and knocked on the door lightly. She half-expected the door to open right away and see Marco's smiling face there to greet her.

“I was waiting on you!” he would say. “You're always late. C'mon, let's go upstairs and--”

The door opened to reveal Freya Bodt with a confused look on her freckled face.

“...Yasmin!” she breathed, putting a hand to her chest in surprise. “...”

Yasmin knew Freya had figured things out when the woman's hands dropped to her sides. Her eyes seemed to go blank, and her face grew dark.

“I'm so sorry,” Yasmin whispered, cringing as tears began to roll down Freya's cheeks.

“Yasmin!?”

Pelin had now joined them at the doorway, and without hesitation she pulled Yasmin into her arms, holding her tightly.

“...Freya...?” Pelin murmured.

“I'm sorry...” Yasmin repeated, her voice hoarse. “I don't even...know what happened...”

Yasmin felt her mother's embrace tighten; she could tell that both women now knew what was going on.

“But...Marco's body...” Freya whispered. Yasmin turned her head to look at her best friend's mother, who was staring at the ground with wide, red-rimmed eyes.

“He'll be...cremated with the others...” Yasmin managed to spit out as memories of Marco's rotting corpse filled her head again. “All I have is...”

Pulling out of her mother's arms, Yasmin held out the cloak to Freya.

“He was seventh...” she told Freya. “He would have joined the Military Police...”

“How did...how did it come to this?” Freya breathed as she gently took Marco's cloak from Yasmin's hands.

 _I don't know, and that's what makes it worse_ , Yasmin realized as she pursed her lips. As she took off her satchel filled with Marco's belongings, she again replayed the events of that day in her head. _Everything was going fine. It was when we split off into our own squads that I lost track of him. Just that one period of time was...all it took..._

“Yasmin.” The teen turned to her mother upon hearing her name. “I'm begging you, with all of my heart: please don't go back there. Please. You weren't in the top ten, were you? You won't be able to join the Police--you'll have to join the Survey Corps or the Garrison. Please don't do it.”

“I can't stop here,” Yasmin whispered, hanging her head. “How could I, Mom...?”

“Yasmin, I'm--”

“It's not as if I haven't already thought about it,” she continued, ignoring her mother's pleading. “About how much easier and safer it would be to quit. But what would that serve? How would that help anyone?”

Gently, Yasmin took her mother's hands in her own.

“If I die, I want to be able to look Marco and Dad in the eyes and take pride in myself for having done the best that I could,” she said. “And not just them--Erin, Mina, Hannah, and so many of my comrades died. And there will probably be more. So how could I abandon them now?”

“It's not selfish to give this up,” Pelin argued, tears in her eyes. “I don't want to lose you!”

“Pelin...” Freya's voice was barely above a whisper; she sounded distant, but her tone was warm as ever. “Maybe this is for the best. Maybe this is what she needs.” As she spoke, she held Marco's cloak closer to her chest. “My son...said he wanted to change something. And I think Yasmin...feels the same way. Our world...needs to change...and we need to let those who are willing to step up to that role take the lead...just like Torlak...”

Yasmin watched as the mention of her father's name made her mother's face soften. The expression on her face was unreadable, but Yasmin could still sense a small spark in her eyes, as if something had triggered in her brain.

 _Did Dad say these kinds of things at my age, too_? she wondered as her mother turned back to her.

“...Don't you dare die out there,” Pelin said softly. “Don't let him down.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hecked up. These should have been published WEEKS ago, but hey, better late than never, right? Right? OK...


	6. You Have My Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old friends, like old times, but with new worries. They must choose their paths--together, or alone.

“This place is dark.”

“Stop complaining.”

“And it's musty.”

“I said stop complaining.”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Rowen leaned back in his chair, fiddling with his ponytail. His sky-blue eyes shifted around the room impatiently.

“This place has really gone downhill over the years. Why do we still bother meeting here?” he wondered out loud.

“There's no one here,” Catherine replied, folding her arms across her chest. “And the old man who works here isn't bothering us one bit. It's fine.”

Rowen sighed again, sitting upright for a moment. He wasn't a horribly impatient person most of the time, but he did get bored easily, and seeing as how there was nothing to do in this tiny little bar, he was already going a little stir crazy.

“Oh, he's here,” Catherine murmured as the tiny doors to the bar opened. At her words, Rowen perked up and turned toward the entrance. He waved a hand at the man who entered, unable to suppress a grin.

“Took you long enough, Bruno,” Rowen said as the blond sat down, removing his scarf from around his neck. “We ordered you a drink already. Did you walk here or what?”

“Things are still a bit crazy at our headquarters,” Bruno admitted, taking off his coat and laying it across his lap. “But I knew I had to take this chance to talk to you. ...It's been a while since we've been able to meet like this.”

Rowen smiled at his good friend, then glanced at Catherine. On the surface, she looked as calm and unimpressed as ever; however, Rowen could see a small gleam of joy in her green-grey eyes. As stubborn as they both were, Bruno and Catherine were probably still a little pissed at one another for how things ended after training. But it wasn't as if they hadn't met since then, and almost five years had passed--five years to mature. All of them had needed it.

“So what is it that you're after?” Catherine then asked, placing her chin in her hand. “If you want information about Eren, you've asked the wrong people.”

“No, it's not quite like that,” Bruno told her. “I met his friends yesterday before the trial--Nile asked me and some of my colleagues to escort them there.”

“Mikasa and Armin, right?” Rowen asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yes. Mikasa didn't have much to say, but Armin said some things that got me thinking.” Bruno leaned forward a bit in his chair, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “For the past few years, nothing has really progressed for humanity, save for Erwin Smith becoming Commander of the Survey Corps. Wouldn't you agree?”

“For the most part,” Rowen agreed, and Catherine shrugged a bit.

“We've made some advances technologically,” she pointed out, cupping her hands around her small cup of warm, black coffee. “And we finally have cannons on top of the walls. That's a pretty decent step for humanity. ...But I see your point. People haven't had many reasons to celebrate survival, save for Eren Jaeger's recent deeds.”

“When I joined the Military Police, my aim was to change all of that,” Bruno said quietly. “But I haven't had any opportunities to do anything to start those changes. Even having my own squad doesn't change much. But what Armin said reminded me of myself--or, moreso, the desire to change the world we live in, and thus alternately create a world in which people have the freedom decide their own fates. So I wanted to ask you both a favor.”

Bruno paused, and Rowen took the chance to look around the bar to make sure no one else was there to eavesdrop. They were still alone, and the bartender was busily washing glasses, minding his own business. Rowen looked back to his friends; Catherine looked slightly less bored than she had earlier, and Bruno's face looked determined.

“If Armin Arlert enters the Survey Corps, please tell me,” Bruno then said. Catherine raised an eyebrow in response.

“Why?” she mumbled. “Going to try to convince him to join the Police?”

Bruno paused again, this time looking irritated.

 _Can't these two learn to behave and put up with each other?_ Rowen thought, sighing through his nose. _Well, I guess some things never change..._

“Tell me so that I can use him as a connection to Erwin,” Bruno then declared.

“Oh,” Catherine murmured, sitting upright at last. “Now _this_ is a plot twist.”

“Commander Erwin is planning something regarding Eren's basement--haven't you given any thought as to why that is?”

“It'll help humanity understand Titans,” Rowen replied, shrugging.

“Besides just that, Rowen.”

“Oh.” Catherine's eyes were now widened, almost glittering in the dim light of the bar. “It's so obvious. He thinks that there are other Titan shifters besides Eren.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait, what?” Rowen gasped.

“Rowen, think for a moment,” Catherine said slowly. “Think about the fall of Wall Maria and Shiganshina, and then compare it to the fall of Trost. Don't tell me you think Titans like that Armored Titan and Colossal Titan are commonplace.”

“But that would mean that those shifters are _against_ humanity,” Rowen concluded.

“Wouldn't it be interesting to know why?” Catherine raised her gaze to Rowen, then Bruno. “I've been studying that dead language, not really thinking about it other than just that, but what if it's a real connection to these Titan shifters? What if it's more than just their history as a people--what if their secrets are contained in these texts? What if we can understand Titans and move humanity back outside of the walls again?”

“Then your being a nerd will finally pay off,” Bruno replied, smirking. Despite his insult, Catherine's lips curled into a smile.

 _That's better_ , Rowen thought, a smile appearing on his own face.

“Anyway, if the government figures out what Erwin is really up to, they'll get scared,” Bruno continued to explain. “It'll show signs of unrest among the people, and it will threaten the plush lives they've worked so hard to keep for themselves and their in-groups. But if we can use someone like Armin, who seems to understand the state of our government, as a means of communication between the Survey Corps and the members of the Military Police who actually wish for a better society, we may be able to accomplish something.”

“What do you think that something will be?” Rowen asked quietly.

“Only time will tell.”

“All right, so let's say Armin joins the Survey Corps,” Catherine then said. “What if he doesn't want to work with you or Erwin? Are you really so sure of his motivations?”

“His motivation is to protect Eren,” Bruno replied. “It may not be his _only_ motivation, but it is definitely one of his concerns. He also indicated to me that he was concerned for humanity as a whole and believed that Eren's power could be used to help humanity in the struggle against the Titans. I trust him.”

“Because he reminds you of you,” Catherine shot back.

“Don't you trust me?”

Rowen watched in amusement as Catherine gave Bruno an irritated look.

“Bruno, we've known you for several years. This kid is new. You don't know what he's really thinking.”

“Yeah, and if he _is_ like you, he'll be _really_ hard to figure out,” Rowen teased.

“I'll ask you again--don't you trust me?” Bruno sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “It's a risk I'm willing to take, and I will handle the consequences, including whatever may happen to you two.”

“I just don't want caught up in any of your anarchy plans,” Catherine muttered.

“What if Captain Levi was leading this?” Rowen teased, unable to help himself. The gaze he got back from Catherine was ice-cold and threatening.

“I'd knee him in the gut and tell him to leave that shit to Erwin,” she growled.

“Why does that even matter?” Bruno mumbled under his breath. “This doesn't have to involve anyone else as far as you two know. Just me, Armin, and Erwin. Can you agree to that?”

“What's in it for us?” Catherine asked.

“It benefits the whole of humanity,” Rowen pointed out with a small laugh.

“You might get even more chances to put that language work to use,” Bruno added.

“And I'm paying for your coffee,” Rowen reminded her.

“Fine. I'll cooperate, then.”

“I will, too,” Rowen said, nodding.

“Thank you, really,” Bruno replied with a small smile. “I trust you both. I don't know how many people can say that about their friends these days.”

Wrapping his scarf around his neck, Bruno sighed quietly.

“I wish I could stay longer, but if I'm gone too long, they'll start to ask questions,” he said in a downcast voice.

“We should probably get going, too,” Rowen told Catherine, who nodded.

“We're moving to the new headquarters tomorrow,” she said, pushing away her empty cup. “I hate packing.”

“Do you really have that much to take with you?” Bruno asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Rowen couldn't help but laugh.

“Bruno, I hate to tell you, but her book collection has only increased over the years.”

“So that's what you use your salary on... You should get a hobby.”

“Oh sure, let me use that money on my house, or my family--oh wait! I don't have any of that!”

As the banter between Catherine and Bruno continued, Rowen smiled to himself. All things considered, their friendship really had not changed too much in the past few years. He felt lucky to have them as his close companions, but in the back of his mind, he knew that things would probably not last.

 _I can already see it happening_ , he realized as he paid the bartender and followed his friends outside into the cool spring night air. _But I guess I should just be grateful that we've made it this far. Some people don't even get that..._

“Be careful,” Bruno told them as he mounted his horse.

“You too,” Rowen replied, doing the same. Catherine trotted up to him.

“We'll be staying in touch,” she said, and without another word, she headed off toward the Survey Corps headquarters.

“See you,” Rowen said, waving. Bruno smiled and returned the gesture.

“You'd better keep an eye on her,” the blond joked.

“I do, trust me.”

“...Thank you.”

Giving Rowen one last smile, Bruno turned and headed in the opposite direction, toward Wall Sina's gates.

 


	7. Envy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Try your hardest. If that does not seem like enough, then keep trying, dammit.

Stretching her arms high above her head, Yasmin let out a small sigh.

“What a day…” she murmured, letting her arms flop down to her sides. “It’s kind of funny—we’ve only been in the Garrison a little while, and this room already feels like home.” Giggling softly, Yasmin added, “I guess because it’s not so different than when we were in training, right?”

Milena’s only response was a soft laugh through her nose. She had her back to Yasmin, and she was standing in front of their room’s lone window. Yasmin could just barely make out her reflection on the glass; she was grimacing, and her normally round brown eyes were narrowed.

“…What’s that face for, Milena?” Yasmin asked gently. “Shouldn’t you be jumping up and down with joy or something? You did it—you’re a Squad Leader now. Captain Hannes hand-picked you.”

“Sure,” Milena grunted. “I’m in charge of a bunch of newbies who don’t give half a damn about their job. Whee.”

“You’re not happy about it?”

“I wish I could be.”

“But isn’t this what you wanted in the first place?” Yasmin asked, exasperated. “You worked your ass off for this—why don’t you at least celebrate a little? You deserve—“

“Yasmin, just shut up, all right?!”

Milena whirled around to face Yasmin; her face was bright red, and Yasmin could see the fury in her usually kind-hearted eyes.

“It doesn’t matter if this is what I wanted or not!!” she shouted, throwing her arms out. “It doesn’t matter how hard I worked or how hard I’m gonna work! It doesn’t matter because I’ll never be good enough!”

“…Milena, don’t tell me…this is about Rosaleen getting that position?”

“What was your first clue?” Milena asked, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

“But that doesn’t have anything to do with _you_ ,” Yasmin told her.

“Are you fucking serious?! Of course it does!”

Yasmin felt like she was talking to a totally different person. This was the first time she had ever seen Milena so angry; Milena was usually the one who was talking people down from their angry tirades. But perhaps it was just that—she had spent so much of her life helping other people that she had neglected her own feelings in the process.

“You don’t know what it’s like!” Milena exclaimed. “I worked my ass off to get into the military, despite everything everyone was telling me—about how I could never make it, about how I was gonna die before I even finished training, about how I ought to focus my energy on getting married and settling down. I worked my ass off to get through training so that I could make something of myself in the organization that _I_ wanted to join, and I worked my ass off so that I could achieve something here and actually _mean_ something to this world—and all of it gets invalidated by the ever-perfect Rosaleen Johnson, who didn’t even have to _try_ to get a special position! They _handed it_ to her, Yasmin! Tell me how that’s fair!!”

“Well…you’re not wrong, I guess. It’s not really fair at all,” Yasmin admitted, scratching the back of her head. “But you _are_ wrong about your efforts not meaning anything. You have a lot to be proud of, you know.”

“Please,” Milena said, rolling her eyes. “Spare me. The last thing I wanna hear from anyone right now is a cute little pep talk about how I worked so hard and how my job is very meaningful and how I should be _grateful_ , blah blah blah.”

“Then what the fuck do you wanna hear?”

Milena stayed silent as Yasmin stared at her. She could feel her heart beating in her throat.

Yasmin understood why Milena was upset—really, she did. She knew what it was like to feel like the constant underdog and to always be compared to other people. And she also understood what it was like to feel like a failure even in the midst of success. That was one of the many feelings she had felt after she survived Trost, only to lose her best friend in exchange.

Yasmin was also well-aware of the competitive nature between Milena and Rosaleen; she had been watching it from afar for years now, and suddenly everything seemed to be building to a climax.

“…I don’t know,” Milena said at last, her voice no louder than a murmur. “Just leave me alone.”

“Fine,” Yasmin replied. Turning on her heel, she walked out of their room without another word.

 

………

 

Though she had stormed off in a huff and avoided going back into their room until she knew she was exhausted enough that she would fall asleep immediately, Yasmin had been very worried about Milena. She had seen Milena get frustrated and angry before, but never like this.

 _Getting this position really must have meant a lot to her--more than she even could express to me earlier_ , Yasmin realized as she crept into their room. The lights were out, and it seemed that everyone was sound asleep. She could just barely make out the outline of Milena's sleeping body in her bunk. ... _Good. She's asleep. I hope she can get some rest and revisit all of this tomorrow when the wound isn't so fresh._

Yasmin was just pulling on her nightgown when she heard a loud sigh on the bunk next to hers.

“Hey,” came a whisper; she did not have to turn around to know it was Milena.

“Sorry,” Yasmin said quickly. “I didn't mean to wake--”

“You didn't, don't worry.” Milena paused, and Yasmin turned to look at her. She was lying on her back in bed, staring up at the bunk above her. “I'm the one who should be apologizing, anyway. I yelled at you and treated you like shit for no good reason, other than being a grumpy, jealous bitch.”

“It's all right--”

“No, it's not.” Milena turned her head and faced Yasmin. “Don't let me get away with acting like that ever again. It was childish and inappropriate, and I'm sorry.” She sighed again, turning her gaze away. “I should probably apologize to Rosaleen, too.”

Running a hand through her short hair, Yasmin smiled a bit at her friend. She sat down on her bunk and pulled the sheets up to her chin, looking at Milena.

“I can't imagine she's angry--maybe just confused,” she murmured.

“Regardless, I need to apologize.” Milena grimaced, then added, “It's not just because I feel bad, either--I'm a Squad Leader now, and I need to start acting like one. So...I need to get my emotions in check. It's just...”

Milena's voice trailed off, and Yasmin could sense her tense up a bit. Smiling sweetly, she placed her hand on the blonde's head and patted her gently.

“You're a good person,” she assured her. “And a good friend. And you'll be a great Squad Leader.”

“...” Rolling over, Milena suddenly threw her arms around Yasmin and burst into tears. “...I just wanted to be able to do something with my life and have that matter to someone...”

“It matters to us, all of us,” Yasmin said, patting her head again. “I don't think anyone is really surprised you got the job--you're a great leader. ...I think, maybe, the problem is that _you_ don't think so...?”

“I...just...wanted to prove it to myself that I could do something...”

Milena released Yasmin, sitting up on her bunk and wiping her eyes.

“How stupid,” she muttered, laughing a little. “Sorry you have to put up with me like this. I try not to cry in public.”

Yasmin let out a quiet laugh as she replied, “It's all right--that's what friends are for, silly.”

“...Thank you. I'm so glad you're here.”

“The pleasure is all mine--my life would be pretty bland without the crazy Milena Gessler running around in it.”

Even in the darkness of the room, Milena's grin was bright.

“I try, I try. And get ready to run even more--just because we're friends doesn't mean you get to slack!”

“Yes, Squad Leader Gessler!”

“...That's gross. Ew. Just call me Milena.”

“All right, Milena. Get some rest so you can boss me around tomorrow with all you've got.”

“If you say so!” Yasmin watched as Milena plopped back into her bunk and shut her eyes.

Despite her cheerful disposition, it was obvious that this still bothered Milena, but Yasmin was proud of her for deciding to deal with it. Jealousy ruining their friendship was the last thing Yasmin wanted; she knew how easily any of them could die, and to die hating each other was something she could not even bear to imagine. But it seemed that things would work out--or at least, they were headed in the right direction now.

With a satisfied smile, Yasmin closed her eyes, and soon she drifted off to sleep at last.

 

 


	8. Dust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cycle of life and death knows no beginning and no end.

“All right, Toni, what's it gonna be? Team 1 or Team 2?”

“Mmmm...I'm going with Team 2.”

“Really? You don't sound so sure...”

Justina shot Antoni a toothy smirk as the blond scratched the back of his head. This was typical for them: anything that wasn't already a game, they would make it into one, and that included watching their fellow trainees go through routines.

Today's training was rock climbing, and it was possibly one of the most dangerous stunts they'd been asked to pull so far. There had already been several of their peers with injuries, but there was just no avoiding that possibility. Without their 3D gear, there was no way to catch oneself from falling, and there was no good way to avoid tumbling rocks, either.

But both Justina and Antoni had passed without too much of a problem. The next group was just grabbing a hold of the rock wall when Justina noticed that the girls were both people she recognized. They were Michelle Hugo and Daphne Portron--two of Justina's roommates who slept in the bunk below her. Neither of them were particularly friendly, not even to one another, and Justina had never really understood why.

“Then I have my bets on Team 1,” Justina declared, watching Michelle as she reached up for something to grab on to.

“Seriously? Isn't that girl one of the medical kids?” Antoni scoffed. “She's not built to handle a physical challenge. Yeah, definitely, it'll be Team 2.”

“She's already made it this far!” Justina countered, gesturing to Michelle. She was now several meters off of the ground, moving at a slow and steady pace. Daphne had pulled ahead of her, though, and it seemed as though Toni might win this bet after all.

Justina could feel the pressure around her, too; she could practically hear people holding their breath, as if they too were betting on who would reach the top first. A couple of minutes passed, and it was clear that Daphne would be the winner. Michelle was still moving at a snail's pace.

“Well, you can't win 'em all,” Justina sighed, crossing her arms across her chest.

Antoni was just opening his mouth to respond when they suddenly hear a shriek fill the air. Snapping her attention back over to the girls, Justina was just in time to see Daphne lose her grip on the rock.

“Oh my god!” Antoni cried, taking a step forward, as if he was going to run and catch her.

But even if he had tried, he would not have made it in time; Daphne crashed into the ground a few seconds later, head-first onto the rocky base of the cliff.

“Get back, all of you!” Commander Shardis shouted, pushing the recruits aside as he marched over to Daphne's broken body. Even from where she stood, Justina could see the bright red of her blood spattered across the rocks.

“Shit...” she hissed, glancing up at Michelle. The girl was still climbing toward the top, as if she was unaware of the chaos unfolding below her.

 _That's probably for the best_ , Justina realized as she got a closer look at Daphne. The girl's head was gushing blood, and the color was drained from her face. If she wasn't already dead, she would be soon.

“Damn,” Antoni breathed. “Damn. That could have been any of us... Damn...”

“She...died...” Justina murmured. She could hear people around her starting to panic, and when she looked up at Michelle again, she could see that the girl had finally reached the top and was staring down at the mess below.

“...I guess you win this round,” Antoni said quietly. Pursing her lips, Justina knocked her elbow into his side.

“Not the time,” she muttered, her heart sinking as she watched Commander Shardis slowly pick up Daphne's lifeless body.

 

…......

 

Justina gently kicked her feet against her bed, lying on her stomach. She had so many things on her mind that there was no way in hell she could fall asleep anytime soon. Daphne Portron was dead. It was the first dead body Justina had ever seen that she _knew_ the person, and for some reason, it fascinated her.

But more disconcerting was Michelle and her reaction--or rather, her lack thereof. She didn't seem to be bothered by knowing she would be sleeping on her own tonight, or the idea that one of their peers had died in general. Why was she hiding her emotions? There would be plenty of support for her if she just opened up.

 _Okay...one, two..._ Justina leaned toward the side of her bunk, peering down at where Michelle was sitting. She was lying in bed with her eyes closed, as if nothing had changed. ... _Three._

“Hey, you doin’ okay?”

Justina watched as Michelle opened her eyes and turned toward her. The teen jumped as she caught side of Justina’s head hanging upside-down; Justina felt a little bad, since her intention hadn't been to startle her at all.

“What do you mean by that?” Michelle asked, flustered.

“Well, I mean, your bunkmate is dead,” Justina said. “I thought it might be tough for you, being all alone and what not. So I’m checking on you, that’s all.”

“…I’m fine,” Michelle told her, laying her head back down on her pillow.

“You sure?”

Justina couldn't read Michelle, and that concerned her, for some reason. She didn't like the idea of someone trying to bottle everything up--something about it just didn't seem right. So with a heave-ho, she hopped down from her bunk and onto the wooden floor. Despite having landed safely, she still came down with a loud thump.

“What are you doing?” Michelle hissed as Justina straightened out her baggy white sleep shirt. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, but if I did, I know you could fix me,” Justina laughed, squatting down beside Michelle’s bunk. “Now move—I’m coming in.”

“Wha--?”

With the prowess of a jungle cat, Justina leaped over Michelle's lap and onto the empty bunk on her left.

“See? Isn’t this better?” she then said, grinning. Michelle returned her smile with tightly-drawn lips.

“I don’t understand what you’re trying to do,” she murmured.

“Well…I’m used to that.” Justina scratched the back of her head. She figured Michelle didn't intend to sound mean; it was just her personality, probably. “But I think maybe, deep down, you do understand. Pretending not to is just easier, right?”

“…No, I genuinely have no idea why you’re sitting in Daphne’s old bunk, or why you won’t leave me alone.”

“It doesn’t bother you that she’s dead?”

“Not particularly.”

Justina felt her eyes grow wide as she looked at Michelle, who looked flustered again. How could Michelle say something like this...? Did it really not affect her? Justina hated to believe it, but the more she observed the look in Michelle's deep blue eyes, the more she began to wonder if it really _was_ possible.

 _Are some people...really like this..._? she wondered.

Whether it was true or not, it was still obvious that Michelle was not going to budge on this. Justina finally sighed, shrugging her shoulders in an over-exaggerated manner.

“I give up, you win,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just…I don’t know how you can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Be that detached.”

“…Detached?” Michelle was the one to shake her head this time. “Would you really call that detachment…? I just see it as it is. Daphne is dead—her physical body no longer exists in this world as anything but small dust particles mixed with ashes. Eventually she’ll just go back into the ground and join the cycle of nature, like everyone else. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.”

“…Well, you’re not wrong.” Justina grinned, pulling her legs into a cross-legged sitting position. The conversation had suddenly taken a much more interesting turn. “It is kinda neat to think about what happens to us when we die.”

“I know, right? The way our bodies decay, and the way we can hasten or slow the process, is one of the most interesting things in the field of science!”

“And it’s even more amazing when you think about it in relation to the Titans!” Justina added, her heart pounding. She had never met someone who thought along these lines before--everyone else had dismissed this kind of thing as weird and inappropriate. “Isn’t it just a sped-up version of the human body’s decomposition process?!”

“Or is ours the slowed-down version?”

“Oooooh…”

Justina brought a hand to her head, eyes still wide. She had never even considered that possibility before... Was this what it was like to be friends with a fellow scientist...?

“…I had no idea you were into this kind of stuff,” she then said slowly.

“It happens,” Michelle replied, smiling.

Justina felt a smile appear on her own face as well. Finally, she had gotten this girl to smile--that was the whole point of this act.

“Well, what do you think of this...?”

Leaning forward toward her new friend, Justina began another theory, grateful for the company and happy that she was of use for once.

 


	9. No Work Without Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he was a Commander, Erwin Smith was just a normal man.  
> Until he met an Abnormal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *NSFW*  
> *NSFW*  
> *NSFW*

At first, when Erwin started military training, he was not sure that he would really enjoy his time there. Even though Nile, his childhood friend, was joining him, it was still somewhat awkward being one of the older people in his class. He was also one of the few soldiers who had an actual goal in mind; most of his peers were just joining the military as a way to get solid income. Hardly a soul really seemed to care about changing anything in this world—it made Erwin feel as if he was the only one who was even trying during training.

Luckily, Erwin met like-minded soldiers after a while; they were friends that made him feel motivated to try his best, and they were also friends that enjoyed having a good time just as much as him. Mike was in several of his groups for training, Ness was one of their roommates, and Gelgar was the one who had recommended bars to them. From there, they had met Marie, a waitress at their favorite hangout—after meeting her, Erwin felt as if his circle of friends was complete. They were all in the same class (save for Marie, who was not in the military), and all of them planned to join the Survey Corps.

Hanji had been an unexpected addition to this group, but by no means an unwelcome one.

Now, after several weeks of getting to know the younger soldier, Erwin felt as attached to Hanji as he did to Mike or the others. It was undeniably an unusual attraction, seeing as how he did not even know Hanji’s gender; Hanji was also an oddball with unpredictable emotions. Regardless, Erwin enjoyed spending time with Hanji, and their nights out at the bar were always something to look forward to.

Tonight in particular, Erwin was feeling more reckless than usual, and he had lost count of how many drinks he had downed. He could hold his liquor well, but they had been at the bar for hours now. The only person who seemed ready to leave was Nile.

“It’s past one,” he told them. Erwin laughed.

“Then we might as well just stay up all night,” he replied.

“But I’m broke now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mike chuckled. “Marie likes you the best, anyway—she’ll give you a discount.”

“Like hell I will,” Marie snapped, her face flushed. “You all should get home, anyway—it’s going to rain soon.”

“Is that true, Mike?” Hanji asked, leaning toward their large-nosed friend. He sniffed the air a couple of times, then nodded slowly. “Hahhhhh, I wanted to stay longer…”

“No more for tonight,” Marie insisted. “If something happened to you guys, it’d be on me, and I can’t afford to bail anyone out of jail right now. Go home.”

With a loud sigh, Erwin pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet.

“What do I owe you?” he asked the waitress, who shook her head.

“Pay me back when you’re sober and can count the bills properly,” she laughed. “It’s not like I won’t be seeing you around.”

Erwin gave her a small smirk and a quick eye roll before turning toward the door. He was soon met with a cool, gentle breeze and a thick wall of humidity. Mike’s nose meant nothing—anyone with half a brain could have figured out it was going to rain soon just by stepping outside.

“Erwin! Oi!”

Erwin was only a few steps down the street when he heard Hanji calling after him. He could hear quick footsteps behind him, and soon the mahogany-haired ball of energy was at his side, a grin visible even in the dim light of the street lanterns.

“What are you doing?” Erwin asked.

“Making sure you don’t get lost going home,” Hanji replied, walking in stride with him.

“That’s not really—“

“You guys wouldn’t let me sleep outside alone. What makes you think I’m gonna let you walk home alone?”

“…Touché.” Erwin let out a quiet laugh. “But that was for a totally different reason.”

“Yeah, but we weren’t even friends then, were we? So it only makes sense that I would come with you now that we _are_ friends, right?”

Hanji’s argument was solid, and even a sober Erwin would not have been able to come up with a good response.

“…We _are_ friends, right?” Hanji then asked, looking up at Erwin.

“Of course,” Erwin said quickly. “…Is there something that makes you think we wouldn’t be?”

“Ah, well…” Hanji’s voice trailed off. “I don’t know, it’s just… I’m not in your grade, and I haven’t known you guys as long as everyone else has known each other. And I…well, I don’t know. I’m kind of an outsider, aren’t I?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

 

………

 

Hanji was not completely convinced by Erwin’s response, but she was grateful that he was at least trying to make her feel better. It was a definite improvement over the constant bullying she faced with the people in her class; with these new friends, she did not have to feel so alone, even if she ultimately was.

“You complete us,” Erwin then said, smiling at her. His cheeks were flushed from intoxication, and his normally smooth hair was mussed in the front. “Even if you don’t think so, I think that everyone would agree that our group of friends would be missing something if you weren’t with us. And…I guess, even if they did disagree, that’s how _I_ feel, at least...”

“Eh?” Hanji said, staring up at Erwin. “You think that I complete our group of friends? Or you think that I complete you? Because those are two really different things, you know…”

“Huh…” As Hanji watched Erwin rub the back of his neck, she felt a drop of rain on top of her head, then another on her shoulder. “…I guess I meant the first one. But I can’t say that the second one is wrong, either? I’m not sure…”

“Are you saying all of this because you’re drunk?” Hanji laughed.

“Well, you keep asking me really complicated questions,” Erwin replied, obviously flustered. His face became a deeper shade of pink, and his eyes were wide and glittering.

“Because you’re a complicated person!” she countered.

“Not really,” he argued.

“Yes, really.”

“…Am I really?”

“Yeah.”

It all seemed to happen in an instant—suddenly Erwin’s lips met hers, his hands gripping the sides of her head. Hanji’s hands were gripping his forearms, as if she was holding on for dear life, out of fear that he might let go. She was not sure who had initiated this, and she was not even sure if he was even aware of what he was doing. It was pouring rain now, but she had not noticed until she felt how heavy her soaked shirt had become, and how her glasses were steaming up.

“…Why did we do that?” Hanji asked after Erwin finally released her.

“You keep asking a lot of questions that I don’t know the answer to,” Erwin said, his smile looking almost pained.

“Can we do it again? That’s not a hard question, right?”

Without a word, Erwin grabbed Hanji’s wrist and pulled her out of the middle of the street, down a side road. She could hear the sound of rushing water in the gutters above their heads as they ran between the houses. In the dim lighting, she could just barely make out Erwin’s figure in front of her; he was soaked to the bone now, too, but he was moving forward nevertheless. Who was she to stop him? She trusted him, after all, so following him just made sense.

They finally came to a stop near the edge of town, behind an old bookshop and an apartment complex. Both were barely visible between the pouring rain and the cloudy night sky; a single street lantern lit their way, glistening through the mist.

Hanji had nothing but questions. Why had they come here? Why had he kissed her? Was he really that drunk? What did she matter to him?

But all of her words came to a screeching halt as Erwin faced her once again, his blond locks soaked and pasted to his head. For a moment, Hanji wondered if following him really had been the right choice; he was smart enough to pull off a murder if he really wanted to. She had no way of knowing his intentions until he said or did something to prove otherwise.

Again, Erwin’s lips met Hanji’s, his arms slipping around her waist. The way he kissed her made her feel light-headed; she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to him. Her fingers tangled in his rain-soaked hair, Hanji gladly welcomed the taste of whiskey and ginger on his lips. She could feel one of his hands pulling at her shirt, untucking what was not yet unkempt. He then slowly unfastened her shirt, his fingers struggling with the tiny buttons.

Suddenly, his hand stopped, and their lips parted once again. Her heart beating in her throat, Hanji could not speak. She was still trying to catch her breath.

“…You’re female,” Erwin murmured, his voice barely audible over their panting and the pouring rain.

“Yeah,” Hanji replied. “And…?”

Erwin’s response was just a quiet laugh, his grin spreading across his face. She was not entirely sure what was so amusing, or why he was so surprised. The realization then hit her, and she too started to laugh.

“…You’re pretty dumb,” she then told him. “What did you think you were gonna feel?”

“I don’t know,” Erwin laughed. “I didn’t really care.”

“Didn’t care?”

“Yeah.” Erwin kissed her again. “I don’t care. I just wanted to fuck you.”

Hanji let out a laugh once again at Erwin’s blunt response.

“Wanted to?” she echoed.

“Want to. I want to.”

“Do you realize how drunk you are right now?”

“Yeah. I don’t care.” Erwin pressed his nose against hers, his eyes boring into hers even in the dim lighting. “You won’t stop asking me complicated questions either way, right?”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I don’t really mind.”

 

………

 

Hanji had not at all been what he expected.

This being said, Erwin was not entirely sure what he had been expecting in the first place. But it was not this. He did not ever think he would be in this position with her.

“I like that you ask questions,” he admitted. “It proves how smart you are.”

“I-I’m not—“

“Is your real name Hanji?” Erwin then asked, still staring down at her.

“…Hanji is my surname,” she murmured.

“What’s your first name?”

“Zoë.” Hanji grimaced. “But don’t call me that.”

“Okay, Hanji.”

“Any other stupid questions?”

“Only one.”

“What?”

“…Can I use you?”

“What…?”

“Can I use you?” Erwin repeated.

“Are you saying, like, friends with benefits?”

“Yeah.”

“…Okay,” Hanji answered, shrugging. “We might as well finish what we’ve started, right?”

Erwin let out a deep sigh; it felt as though he had been holding his breath for hours on end. It was odd--this person he had only known for a couple of months seemed to understand him better than most of his close friends. But she was smart; she had already proven that much to him, and so he knew he should not be surprised.

Peeling Hanji's soaked shirt from her body, Erwin kissed her once again, pulling at her bottom lip.   
“Is there anything else I should know about you?” he mumbled, a hand making its way down to her belt buckle.

“Maybe,” she said quietly, and Erwin felt himself hesitate. “...I can't get pregnant. I'm sterile.”

No, Hanji was definitely not what he expected.

“...Really?” Erwin asked quietly. Through the darkness, he could see Hanji nodding. “You can't have children?”

“Not of my own, no,” she replied. “...Did that ruin this for you?”

“No,” Erwin confessed. “That just wasn't what I was expecting to hear. You shouldn't feel bad. In fact, I'm glad you told me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Because...I don't know, I guess now I don't feel any pressure. Things are a lot more carefree when I don't have to worry about hurting someone.”

“You...have a point...” Erwin then felt Hanji's forehead on his shoulder. “...Thank you. You're the first person I've ever told. Thank you for still seeing me for who I am--as a human being.”

“Hanji...”

It would have been impossible to tell if she was crying through the rain, but Erwin could feel her trembling. Pushing her face away from him, he gently kissed her cheek, then her lips; he was not sure what else to do at this point. Even if he had not been drinking, he would not have been able to find the right words to comfort her.

But that was why they worked--Hanji did not seem to mind, even as he clumsily unbuckled her belt. Slowly, Erwin peeled off her pants, hardly even aware of her hands mimicking his. The rain was hardly sobering; it was warm and never-ending, enveloping them in a fog. In a back alley of Wall Rose, in the middle of a dark and moonless night, no one would have to know who they were or what they were trying to hide.

 

…......

 

Hanji's stomach was churning now--between the drinking, her confession, and this foreplay, she was lucky to have kept herself as mentally collected as she still was. It was not that she felt nervous--she just couldn't believe that she was actually in this position.

The brick wall against her back was cool and surprisingly smooth against her bare skin as she slid down it, Erwin guiding her with one hand behind her head, while the other gripped her thigh. Soon, she was sitting on the wet pavement, staring up at a pair of dimly lit blue eyes. She could barely seen through her rain-spattered glasses; setting them on the ground beside her, she pulled Erwin closer with her free hand. His kisses were clumsy, but his hold on her was firm and deliberate. So far, he was a decent lover--not that she had anyone to compare him to.

Hanji briefly closed her eyes, listening to the rain pelting them and the sound of their near-frantic gasps for air. It was almost surreal, and for a moment she wondered if this was some kind of vivid dream.

But she was torn from that thought the moment she felt pressure well up in stomach again; she could feel Erwin inside of her, and her eyes popped open, revealing a blurred night sky. She was all too familiar with the feeling of an adrenaline rush, but this was much more slow to build, and also admittedly more enjoyable.

“Hanji...” Erwin mumbled in her ear. Her grip on his body tightened in response. She waited for him to say more, but she could only hear the rain and his hastened breathing. Relaxing her grip, Hanji moved a hand up to Erwin's hair, sliding her fingers through his tangled hair.

They had gotten comfortable with each other now, which was ironic, seeing as how they could not have been in a more uncomfortable place. As Erwin's pace quickened, the pressure in Hanji's head began to build, and the harder it was to keep quiet. It was doubtful anyone would hear them or see them now, though, not with the way it was pouring.

“Nngh...! Erwin...I...”

Her head was spinning now; she regretted taking off her glasses, regretted drinking so much. Everything probably would have been so much better if they had done things like normal people.

But they were not normal people. Hanji knew that already. That was why they got along, after all. That was also part of why they had ended up like this.

“Erwin...” The warmth that filled her body in that final moment of togetherness pulled at her insides and made her spine want to melt into Erwin's arms. “Erwin...”

“Shhh....” he hushed her, pushing hair out of her face. “...Hanji...?”

“What?”

“...Next time, let's be sober for this.”

Despite being so out of breath, Hanji let out a laugh.

“Next time,” she agreed.

 

…......

 

The walk home had been a miserable one; Erwin was sore and soaked to the bone, and the happy vibes from the alcohol were starting to wear off.

After making sure that Hanji was safe, he trudged back to his dorm, the bottoms of his sopping wet pants dragging the ground. As quietly as he could, he opened the door to his room; to his surprise, Mike and Nile were still awake.

“You're alive after all,” the latter muttered as Erwin slowly shut the door behind him. He pulled on his shirt sleeve, wringing out water onto the floor. “Oi, oi, what do you think you're doing?!”

“...Hanji is a female,” Erwin announced quietly.

“Huh,” Mike grunted, sliding down underneath his blankets.

“Good _god_ , Erwin,” Nile hissed.

A small smile crossing his lips, Erwin ran a hand through his damp locks of hair. He could still smell the scent of strong red wine on his being, remnants of his night with Hanji.

“Don't worry about it,” Erwin murmured. “Go to bed. Get some sleep.”

 


	10. I'm Not Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Born in similar words, they could not have been more different.

“And who the hell do you think YOU are?!”

Bianca glanced to her right at Commander Shardis, then the tall, skinny red-head standing beside her. He quickly saluted, his green eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“C-Claus Rasmussen from Yalkell district, Sir!” he practically chirped.

“Oh, from the rich kids’ block, huh? That would explain why you look like such a fairy!”

“That very well may be it, Sir!” Claus replied, blinking quickly.

“And what makes you think you’re worth my time to train?” Shardis barked.

“I want to give my strength to protect the people left in this world, Sir!”

“Give your strength? What strength do you even have to give?”

“None yet, Sir!”

“Then don’t waste my time with your sugar-coated fantasies! About-face!”

Bianca's gaze drifted away from the boy and forward again as Commander Shardis stalked off toward his next victim. He had not approached her, and she was not entirely sure why, but she assumed that he was only making a fuss over those who seemed too awkward, immature, or arrogant to be there. Bianca was none of these things; apparently, Shardis had sensed this.

“Could’ve been worse,” Claus hissed to himself. Bianca's eyes flicked up at the boy quickly before looking away again. She could not even help herself; clicking her tongue in disgust, she narrowed her honey-brown eyes and stared at the rock formation in front of her.

“That you’d even say that means you need more discipline,” she grumbled under her breath. She did not care if he heard her; he would have to learn one way or another that his flippant attitude would not slide in the military.

“You think you’re better than me just because he passed over you?” Claus snapped. Bianca could feel his eyes on her.

“No.” Again, she glanced up at the boy. “You just have more catching up to do.”

“Catching up?”

“On becoming a soldier.”

“...As if you know what that means, either,” Claus muttered.

“I know more than you ever will.”

Bianca was sure that she sounded self-important in saying this, but it was true, and she was not sure how else to word it. Her life experiences up to this point had already formed her into someone who could handle the lifestyle of a soldier, despite having grown up in Wall Sina. This boy, Claus--he was different. He was a poster boy for the typical spoiled Wall Sina kid, the same kind of kids she had gone to school with and had seen around town. The sooner he learned to cast aside that part of himself, the sooner he would become a worthwhile soldier.

“Well, excuse _me_ ,” Claus retorted. “That's some pretty big talk. You got anything to back it up?”

“Are you trying to challenge me...?” Bianca asked, turning her head toward the teen.

“No--I'm only meeting the challenge that you gave me.”

Bianca said nothing in reply; it was clear that he had already misunderstood her intentions, and saying anything else would probably only worsen the situation. She was not sure how to communicate with this boy, and if she was honest with herself, she did not want anything to do with him anyway.

So, she stayed silent, turning away and once again staring straight ahead. She heard Claus let out a deep, irritated sigh, but soon he also was standing in silence.

 _Sorry, Bruno,_ Bianca thought, pursing her lips. _Looks like I didn't manage to make any friends the first day after all_.

 

…......

 

“Any guesses as to what Commander Shardis has stuck up his ass?”

“Probably something as tall as a Titan!”

Claus felt a grin tug at his lips as he listened to his friends' banter at the dinner table. He was glad he had not joined the military alone; trying to make friends in such a competitive environment really did not seem like it was worth the effort. And if they were all going to be like that girl he stood next to during Shardis' roast, then it _really_ would be a waste of time.

“Well, getting into the Military Police shouldn't be _that_ hard,” Arthur murmured, lowering his voice so that only Claus and Damon could hear. “Most of the people here are perfectly content with joining the Garrison, which means less competition for us. In other words, less _work_ for us.”

“As long as we're better than them, it won't matter how good we are, eh?” Damon said, a large smirk across his tanned face. “Works for me. None of this training will matter in three years anyway. Once we're in the Police, we're as far away from the Titans as we can get, and we'll be able to afford to _stay_ away.”

“Is that really what you want?”

Claus whirled his head around at the sound of a familiar voice; his eyes met those of the same girl from earlier. She was staring down at the boys, holding her dinner tray tightly in her hands.

“So what if it is?” Arthur snapped. “What business is it of yours?”

“It's a waste of time, money, and resources to train people who aren't willing to make good use of themselves,” she replied coolly.

“What's your problem?” Damon huffed.

“She thinks she's better than everyone,” Claus told his friends, glaring up at the girl. “Just because Shardis didn't call her out earlier--he probably didn't realize she was a living body, what with how dead her eyes look.”

To Claus' surprise, the girl's eyes lit up with a flash of pure rage, then became cool again just as quickly. Whoever she was, she _did_ seem to have good control of her emotions for as young as she was. But that did not make her better than anyone.

“So, what--are you an avid Survey Corps fan?” Damon then asked, leaning toward the girl.

“No, actually, I plan to join the Military Police,” she replied. Claus raised an eyebrow.

“Then why are you harping on us?!” Arthur shouted, his temper getting the better of him as always. “You're just like us!”

“No, I'm not.”

“That's right--you think you're _better_ than us.”

“I don't. But I do think that I have a better sense of direction than you. And I also know that I'm stronger than you. So, if _you_ want to turn this into a challenge, that's fine. I know I'll win.”

“Leave us alone already,” Claus muttered, turning back around in his seat.

“No.” At this response, he whirled back around toward her. “Learn to follow through with the consequences of your actions. Otherwise, you'll never make it to graduation.”

“What are you, my mom?” Damon scoffed. “You heard Claus--leave!”

“Hold on, Damon,” Claus said, swinging his legs over the side of the bench and standing up. “She's complaining about our attitudes, but she has nothing to say for her own? Maybe she _does_ need a challenge to straighten out her head.”

To his surprise, the girl held out her hand, as if waiting on him to shake it.

“I'm Bianca Sertoli,” she said. “You should know that I don't say these things out of contempt--yet. We can still be amicable about this.”  
“Oh? Trying to back down from your challenge?” Arthur asked, snickering.

“No--I'm just trying to teach you all something. But...if this is the way I have to do it, then that's fine.”

“All right,” Claus said, grabbing Bianca's hand and giving it a firm shake. He was surprised to find how cold her hands were. “Challenge accepted. See you tomorrow in training?”

“Yes,” she replied, pulling her hand out of Claus' grasp. “Tomorrow.”

 

…......

 

Bianca spent the first part of her first day in training in surprisingly blissful peace. She did not see Claus or his friends at all while learning how to balance on the three-dimensional maneuvering gear, and after a few hours, she forgot all about them. Instead, she was concentrating on bettering her skills so that she could secure her place in the top ten. After all, she had promised her brother and his friends that she would be joining them in the Military Police.

After lunch, though, Bianca found herself face to face with the lanky red-head once again during their hand to hand combat training.

“I'll need two volunteers to demonstrate a proper fight!” Shardis shouted out to the crowd of new trainees. “Who'll it be?”

“I'll do it,” Bianca volunteered, raising her hand. Her hope was to bait Claus or one of his friends; if it didn't work, she would at least get extra practice in.

Just as she predicted, though, another hand shot up from the crowd.

“I'll go,” Claus declared, stepping forward toward Bianca and their Commander.

“All right, here's how this works: one of you will be representing a rogue soldier. You'll be equipped with this wooden knife!”

Bianca watched in slight amusement as Commander Shardis shoved the makeshift weapon into Claus' hands.

“The other will attempt to disarm the opponent! Your fight should not extend outside of this ring! I think I've made this pretty easy for you all--but for those of you still stuck with your heads up your asses, take a look at these two!”

The moment Shardis stepped back, Claus raised the knife in a defensive pose--or at least, an attempt at one. Bianca stood there for a moment, waiting to see if he would be bold enough to make the first move or if he would leave that to her.

 _...I have to be careful_ , Bianca reminded herself as she tensed her calf muscles and prepared to sprint. _I can't afford to get hurt here._

In a burst of speed, Bianca lunged toward Claus; he did the same, reaching out with the knife as if to stab her. He was being bold, as she suspected he might, but in doing so, he had left her with an opening.

Grabbing Claus' arm, Bianca twisted it back and pulled as hard as she could, yanking Claus backward and causing him to stumble. Having lost his balance, he tried to correct his footing, but Bianca was faster and stronger. In one swift movement, she released his arm and kicked his feet out from under him, sending the red-head onto the ground with a thud.

Snatching up the knife, Bianca stood upright over him, staring down at the pained expression on his face.

 _Were you even trying_? she wondered, feeling disappointed as she watched tears appear in his eyes.

“I thought I said that this was going to be a demonstration of a PROPER fight?!” Shardis bellowed. “Get UP, Rasmussen! Unless your goal is to end up falling down and crying over the first Titan that you meet!”

Bianca grimaced as she watched Claus slowly sit upright, rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Shut up,” he hissed, pushing himself to his feet again.

Sighing through her nose, Bianca tightened her grip on the handle of the toy knife. She had not intended to make an enemy out of Claus--she had only intended to set him straight. There were far too many people joining the military without any realization of the consequences, and even more of them joining who had no idea how lucky they were to be able to choose this path with their own free will.

 _This is my only chance at freedom_ , she thought as Claus walked away. _I just want people like you to understand that..._

 

 


	11. No Longer Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins of the OT3.  
> Well, one of them, anyway.

“So, how was it?”

At his sister's question, Bruno glanced up from the kitchen sink and out the small window in front of him.

“You'll have to be a little more specific than that,” he replied.

“How was your first day at school?” Bianca asked. He could feel her gaze upon him from behind, and he turned around, giving her a grimace. “That bad?”

“Well, no, not really...” Turning off the faucet, Bruno dried his hands on a nearby hand towel, sighing. “There are just a few weirdos running around at this school, is all. One of them invited me to dinner tonight.”

“And you're not going?”

“Of course not. I didn't want to leave you--”

“It's important that you don't isolate yourself, Bruno,” Bianca interrupted. Bruno sighed again; her wisdom was beyond her years, and while he appreciated it most of the time, right now it was annoying. He did not want to have an excuse to get to know Rowen--that was not why he had become a teacher. Making friends and keeping up appearances was only an added stressor, one that he really did not want to deal with.

“...I told him maybe tomorrow,” Bruno admitted at last, leaning against the counter.

“You should go,” Bianca told him, her elbows propped up on the back of the parlor sofa. “...They would have wanted you to make friends.”

“...Bianca, it's not that easy.”

“I know.”

 _I know that you know_ , Bruno thought, gritting his teeth. _I don't know why I even bothered saying that. I know that it's hard for you, too--maybe even worse..._

“So, you should get what I mean, right?” Bruno chuckled softly. “Even if I _wanted_ to talk to this guy and his friend, it wouldn't be any easier. There's only so much we can talk about before it gets too personal. We can't talk about our family or childhoods like normal people. They'll inevitably find that odd.”

“You _are_ odd,” Bianca laughed. “Nothing is stopping you from talking to them about _their_ lives, stupid.”

“It's still a risk,” Bruno insisted, but Bianca gave him a knowing look in response. “Also, this guy is kind of annoying. More annoying than having a smart-ass little sister. And apparently he has a friend that he wants to introduce me to. Think about it--think about how stressful that will be. Do you really think it's that easy to keep up conversation with two bumbling idiots?”

“I'm keeping up conversation with you right now, and I'm several years younger.” Bianca's lips curled into a smile.

“Oi, show some respect--I'm your older brother.”

“Earn it--I'm your younger sister.”

“...You have mom's sense of humor,” Bruno muttered, lowering his gaze. Sighing once again, his eyes wandered over to the empty kitchen table.

Bianca was probably right. Their lives had been incredibly lonely since their parents died. They had isolated themselves, and now, here was their chance to bring people back into their lives. But the huge difference was that their parents had loved them unconditionally, and these two strangers might not feel the same way.

“It's...not like you have to tell them about us...” Bianca murmured. Bruno looked back up at his sister. Her chin was resting on her arms, and her eyes were cast down at the wood floor.

“Yeah...I know...” Bruno folded his arms across his chest, shrugging to himself. “I just...”

“Please go?”

Bianca flicked her eyes up at him, nothing but innocence in her gaze. Bruno could see it--the same loneliness and emptiness that he felt... He then realized that her insistence was not just for his sake, but for hers as well. She needed friends, people she could trust and turn to if anything ever was to happen to him...

Although he did not necessarily have to have friends or companions for himself, he knew that it was his duty to find them for Bianca.

“...Are you _sure_ you'll be all right by yourself?” Bruno asked gently.

“Yes,” Bianca replied, nodding once.

“Then, I guess you don't leave me with any other choice. I'll go.”

 

…......

 

 _Where is she..._?

Rowen scanned the hallway once again, looking for his best friend mixed in the crowd of students and teachers alike. But, he found Bruno first instead; the young man's eyes looked dull and unimpressed, just as they had the day before.

“Hey there!” Rowen greeted him, slapping him on the back. “Survived another day of teaching, I see! You ready for dinner?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Bruno replied, shrugging a bit. Rowen grinned, then looked down the hallway once again.

“Well, as soon as--ah, speak of the devil!”

Rowen waved his arm above his head as he noticed Catherine's small frame enter his field of vision. She soon caught sight of him, then rolled her eyes in response. Still, she walked over to them without hesitation.

“Sorry I'm late,” she muttered as she reached Rowen's side. “The teacher in the room next to mine doesn't understand that small talk is supposed to be just that-- _small_.”

“Sounds like you're making lots of new friends!” Rowen teased her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and giving her a squeeze. “Speaking of, this is Bruno Sertoli! He's going to be joining us for dinner tonight.” Releasing Catherine, Rowen gestured to Bruno, then back to his childhood friend. “Bruno, this is Catherine Müller. She's my best friend, so it's only natural she comes with us!”

Rowen looked at Bruno, and a smile crossed his lips as he noted the glimmer of curiosity in the blond's gold eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” Catherine said, offering her hand. “...Though I think I've seen you around.”

“The pleasure's all mine,” Bruno replied, giving her a firm handshake. “I grew up in Hermiha--we probably went to the same school.”

“Catherine's a year younger than us,” Rowen explained. “But she's a smart cookie, so she got to graduate early and--”

“Rowen, we can talk more later,” Catherine interrupted. Her cheeks were flushed the slightest shade of pink. “Let's get on our way.”

“But yeah, anyway!” Rowen went on as he walked toward the exit with Catherine leading the way and Bruno at his side. “That's probably why you've never seen her around. And also...” Rowen lowered his voice, leaning toward Bruno. “...She's a bit of a recluse.”

“I heard that,” Catherine snapped, whipping her head around.

“But you're not denying it?”

“...”

“...Interesting,” Bruno murmured as Catherine turned back around. Rowen chuckled, adjusting his glasses.

“Anyway, thanks for joining us this evening!” he said, smiling at Bruno. “Your little sister is okay with staying on her own, then?”

“Yeah, she insisted it was fine,” Bruno said quietly, staring straight ahead.

Rowen let out another chuckle, turning forward as well. He had plenty of things he could say in reply to that, but for now, he could see that silence was going to win Bruno over much more quickly than idle chatter.

 _You're just like Catherine_ , Rowen realized, smirking to himself as he watched the young woman from behind. She was taking long, impatient strides down the street, as if trying to reach their destination as quickly as possible.

“Ah, I forgot to mention--this place is in Stohess, but that's okay, right?” Rowen asked, turning to Bruno.

“...I guess it's too late now, huh...?” he mumbled in reply, glancing at Rowen.

“It's not,” Catherine said suddenly, stopping and turning to face the boys. “He doesn't _have_ to come with us if he doesn't want to.”

“It's fine,” Bruno reassured her quickly. “Bianca already has her dinner for the night--and we're already on our way. It's fine.”

“...If you say so...” Catherine sighed, turning back around. “But you know, Bruno, you should learn to _not_ let Rowen talk you into things so easily.”

“She's got a point,” Rowen admitted with a laugh. He glanced at Bruno, only to see that his gaze was fixed straight ahead again.

 _So that's how it is, eh?_ Smirking to himself, Rowen followed after Catherine through the streets of Hermiha, toward the gate to Wall Sina. _Well, we'll see how this goes..._

 

…......

 

“It's been a while!”

Catherine glanced up at the bar owner with tired eyes. It was only the second day of work, and she was already beginning to feel burnt out. Sharing space with thirty preteens was no easy task, but at least she was getting paid well, and at least Rowen was with her.

“Oh, and I see you've brought someone new!” the owner went on, giving them his usual rosy-cheeked smile. “Well, I'll give you a bit to decide. I assume it's the usual for you two?”

“Sure is,” Rowen replied, grinning at Catherine. She nodded, her chin resting in one hand. “Thank you, Sir!”

“...So you know the owner?” Bruno asked, glancing at the two of them.

“We've been coming here a while,” Rowen told him. “Well before it was legal for either of us to actually sit at the bar.”

“This is pretty much the only place we eat besides our homes,” Catherine added. “It's only natural that he'd recognize us. Plus, the man's a gossip. He knows everyone.”

“Cat, that's mean,” Rowen scolded her, but she shrugged.

“It's true,” she insisted.

“...How long have you guys known each other?” Bruno inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Too long,” Catherine sighed. To her surprise, a small smile crossed Bruno's face. It was the first sign of human emotion he had shown the entire evening so far.

“For over ten years now,” Rowen finally said, putting a hand on Catherine's head. “And she can't get rid of me.”

“I've tried,” Catherine added.

“Did your parents know each other?” Bruno glanced back and forth between the two. He seemed to be loosening up a bit.

“No, actually.” Rowen laughed, putting a hand on his cheek. “...She saved my ass.”

“Oh?”

“It wasn't a big deal,” Catherine insisted, looking over at Rowen. “If you had just stood up for yourself in the first place, it would have been even less of an issue.”

“It was destiny,” Rowen countered, glancing at Bruno and then back at her.

Catherine turned away from Rowen, then caught sight of Bruno's expression. He was staring at her, and the look in his eyes was something she recognized: admiration. Quickly looking away, she stared down at the wooden table in front of her, swinging her legs nervously.

“Anyway, what about you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Bruno replied.

“Well, I mean, you're from Hermiha, but we've never talked to you before.”

“Yeah, I never really saw you around much,” Rowen jumped in. Catherine was grateful that he could read her so easily; she was struggling to find words for a worthwhile conversation, despite her desire to actually _have_ one.

“I don't get out much,” Bruno said, shrugging. “My...parents are both dead, so I spend all my free time taking care of the house and working, and with my sister.”

“What a good brother!” Rowen exclaimed. “Catherine has two older brothers, y'know.”

“Why does that matter?” Catherine hissed, narrowing her eyes at Rowen.

“Oh? Is that so?”

“What kind of response is that?” Catherine huffed, turning to Bruno. “Yes, I have two brothers. They're older. Fascinating, I know.”

“Don't be rude,” Rowen warned her.

“I'm not trying to be.” Catherine sat back in her chair, placing a hand on her forehead. She sighed through her nose, forcing herself to calm down. It was odd--she did not understand why she was panicking now, over a simple conversation with one of her peers and her best friend.

“It's okay,” Bruno assured her. “We can change the subject if you want.”

“...Maybe, next time, you should bring your sister, too,” Catherine finally said, lowering her hand. “If you're all she has, she's probably pretty lonely spending time on her own, right...?”

“Catherine...” Rowen whispered, but she ignored him--the look of understanding in Bruno's eyes was far more comforting.

“...Yeah...you're right. Maybe I will,” Bruno murmured.

“You really should!” Rowen agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

As Catherine once again placed her chin in her hand, she glanced at Bruno. She had caught him looking at her again, and she stared at him. There was something odd about him, something that made her feel curious to get to know him better. He was not saying much about himself--perhaps it was the pull of the mysteries surrounding him that fascinated her.

Still, whether he was interesting or not, she barely knew him, and it was impossible to feel as comfortable around him as she did around Rowen. Likewise, she did not want to give him the idea that he could be that comfortable around her. She could not afford to let her guard down to just anyone.

 _...We'll see_ , she told herself, closing her eyes for a moment as she listened to Rowen blather on. _Maybe we'll be friends. Maybe not. We'll see._

 

 


	12. A Little More Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite being labelled as a monster, Bertholdt is not ready to kill anyone yet.

Back in the day, when he was just a child, Bertholdt had spent a lot of mornings up at sunrise. He, Reiner, and Marcel often camped out, but he was always the first one up. Even on days spent indoors, though, he liked to get up early enough to watch the spectacular color and light show. There was just something so comforting about it; nighttime was scary, but daylight was peaceful and safe.

However, once he enlisted in military training, Bertholdt forgot all about watching the sunrise. He tried to sleep as much as he could, and as deeply as he could--otherwise, he would be haunted by his nightmares and guilty conscience.

Being on the run again reminded him, though--it reminded him of how peaceful the world was outside of the walls, and how beautiful nature was.

 _It's too bad I don't have time to really appreciate it,_ he thought, sighing as he sat on top of the wall of the Shiganshina district, staring out at the horizon.

“Oi, Bertl, you awake already?”

Bertholdt looked over his shoulder at Ymir, who was sitting upright, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeesh.” She glanced down at Reiner, who was still sound asleep. “I dunno how he does it. Wish I could sleep like that out here.”

“Yeah,” Bertholdt chuckled quietly, “he has a real talent for it.”

When Ymir did not reply, Bertholdt faced forward again, sighing through his nose. It was a little chilly outside, but he could feel sweat beading on the back of his neck. He hated the feeling--he would never get used to it.

“So, how much longer until we get to your home?” Ymir asked. Her voice sounded closer now. A few moments later, she plopped down beside Bertholdt.

“Not too much farther,” he replied. “It's in the depths of that forest.”

“That so? ...You can't tell from this distance that anyone lives in there, though.” Ymir laughed through her nose as she added, “Wish I would have known that a while ago.”

“...Do you mean, after you ate Marcel?”

Bertholdt glanced at Ymir; she was staring out at the forest, eyes narrowed and lips drawn tight.

“I regret it, you know,” she told him. “I didn't mean to eat your friend. Maybe I would have been better off as a Titan, y'know?”

“What makes you say that?” Bertholdt asked quietly.

“A lot of things. I mean, you guys are taking me to my execution, right?”

Bertholdt did not answer. He really did not need to, anyway, but confirming her suspicions seemed too harsh. Despite what she had done to Marcel, and despite all the trouble she had put them through, he did not hate Ymir. He did not blame her for things turning out this way. This was just the destiny that had been handed to them--she was just as helpless as they were.

“...Yeah, I figured as much,” Ymir laughed. “Well, that's the first thing. The second thing is that I left Historia back there. She probably hates me now. I really can't blame her--I fucked up pretty bad.”

“I don't think she would hate you for what you did,” Bertholdt assured her, but Ymir laughed again.

“You really don't get anything about girls, do you?” she teased. “Well, Historia's probably the hardest one to understand, so I guess that'd explain why you're so clueless... Anyway, I left behind a salary, guaranteed three meals a day, a bed, water--there are a lot of things in the walls that would be really nice to have right now. But the thing is, Bertl, if I was to stay there, d'you know what'd happen to me? ...Don't answer that. I know you know.”

Bertholdt nodded slowly; he knew exactly what Ymir was talking about. Even if he had not been involved in the fall of Wall Maria and Shiganshina, if he had revealed himself to be a Titan, he would be subject to experiments, and the world would require that he put his skills to the test and put his life on the line to expand human territory.

“It almost makes me feel bad for Eren,” Ymir laughed darkly. “But there's only so much sympathy I can spare--I'm sure that's something you understand, too, huh?”

Before Bertholdt could respond, he heard a quiet sneeze come from where Reiner was lying; he glanced over his shoulder to see his friend sitting up, rubbing his nose.

“Wow, what a way to wake up,” Reiner chuckled. “Should we head out?”

“Let's eat first,” Ymir suggested. “If you're taking me to my death, I'd like to leave this world on a full stomach, if possible.”

 

…......

 

Despite the countless jokes she had made about her impending death sentence, Ymir was not ready to die. She did not want to die with this many regrets still in her heart. This was supposed to be her second chance at life--what was the point if she was just going let it go to waste again?

More than anything else, she wanted to see Historia. She wanted the chance to explain herself, or at the very least, to apologize for leaving her behind. Everything had happened so suddenly that Ymir knew Historia must have felt abandoned.

 _I messed up_ , Ymir thought, bowing her head as she squatted down by a stream. She and the boys had just stopped to take a quick break at the edge of the forest before heading in. _I sacrificed myself for her, thinking there'd be a way for me to get out of this, but I'm not so sure that there is anymore..._

“Something wrong?” Reiner asked, squatting down next to her. Ymir grimaced, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that a serious question?” she countered. “I'm gonna die soon. Of course something is wrong.”

“...Look, Ymir, I...” Reiner's voice trailed off, and the two were left in silence for a moment. “...I understand why you came with us. It wasn't just to protect us--it was to protect Historia, right?”

“So what if it was or not? Does it really matter now? It's not like I can rewind time to change it.”

“Hang on, just hear me out.”

Ymir let out a loud, impatient sigh, grabbing a nearby twig and poking the water with it. She could see tiny fishes glittering beneath the surface, swimming by her quickly.

“I get why you decided to protect her,” Reiner finally said. “I mean, if I had been in your place, I might have done the same thing. It's no secret how much you really care about her.”

“Yeah, okay, but so what?” Ymir muttered. Although it probably would have been in her best interests if she was nice to people who had the power to sentence her to death, she could not bring herself to care anymore. “Is this an effort to make me feel better? Because it's not working.”

“No, no, that's not what I'm after.” Reiner sighed quietly. “...I know that Historia is the rightful heir. I know that you've known for a while, and that's part of what made you decide to leave her behind--because as Queen, she would have a better chance for a future within the walls. It makes perfect sense, Ymir.”

Reiner finally sat back on his heels, then sat on the dry grass, looking out at the cloudy sky. Ymir stayed crouched; if she had to suddenly run away from him, she wanted to be able to do so as quickly as possible.

“Historia has the potential to take back what we need from Eren,” Reiner continued, “but I think that if Bertholdt or I asked her, she probably wouldn't come with us. But, if _you_ asked her, she would come.”

“How can you be so sure?” Ymir scoffed. “I left her behind--she probably hates my guts now.”

“I think that she would,” Reiner assured her. “Her trust in you might not be as strong, but love doesn't end that easily, I don't think.”

“What the hell do you know about love?” Ymir muttered under her breath, tossing the twig across the stream to the other bank.

“Look, Ymir, I'm trying to help you out,” he said at last, sounding frustrated. “I'm trying to point something out to you: we need you. We need to use you to get Historia on our side, and we need you to convince her to fulfill her real duty as a ruler and take back the power her family lost to the Jaegers.”

“Who says it'll work?”

“I don't know--but it's a damn good reason not to kill you yet.”

Ymir's eyes widened at this statement; slowly, she stood upright again, staring out at the forest. Reiner had a very good point: if the goal of his village was to obtain the coordinate, then they would need as much help as they could get. Ymir had not made a total enemy out of Eren yet, and if she could just have the chance to explain everything to Historia...

“...You think your warriors'll buy that?” Ymir murmured.

“Absolutely,” Reiner replied confidently. “Both Bertholdt and I are witnesses to what you're capable of. If you join us, they won't kill you--they won't have a reason to anymore.”

 _Is this really what's best for me? For her?_ Ymir wondered, crossing her arms. _Will this really give us a chance at life again...?_

“...Well, I don't have many other options right now,” Ymir sighed. “Just be a decent witness for me, okay? 'Cause if I find out you're lying--”

“I'm not lying,” Reiner insisted, pushing himself to his feet. “This helps Bertholdt and me, too. Just trust me.”

Reiner held out his hand toward Ymir, and her first instinct was to recoil. She hated making deals, or dedicating herself to anyone, for that matter. Putting her trust in someone who was in mental turmoil did not seem like a good idea, but she did not have a choice.

“I'm not doing it for me,” Ymir said at last, firmly shaking Reiner's hand. “I'm doing it for her. So...don't screw it up.”

 


	13. Inevitability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of being strung along, Erwin and Hanji are once again strung together.

As Erwin looked around the crowded mess hall of the Survey Corps headquarters, despite seeing and hearing so much energetic chaos, he felt a strange sense of peace. Perhaps it was because he _knew_ what the cause of this so-called chaos was: it was Christmas Eve, and people were celebrating the year's achievements, as well as Levi's birthday and the holiday itself. People were _happy_. _He_ was happy.

It had been a long time since he had felt this happy, and he knew it was not perfect. Mike, Nanaba, Gelgar, Henning, Lynne...they and countless others had been lost to the Titans, and they would no longer be able to join them at these parties. There would be no more loud cheering from the table Levi sat at, either--no more Petra and Auruo bickering, while Eld and Gunther watched on with knowing smiles.

But, even with those losses, Erwin had plenty to be thankful for, and there were still reasons to feel joyful. Those few things made him even happier after a few drinks, too.

“Come on, Levi!” Hanji laughed from beside him. She was pulling on the man's arm, but his heels were dug into the floor. “Drink with us! You know you want to!”

“That couldn't be any farther from what I want to do,” he muttered, glaring at Hanji. Her enthusiasm did not waver; in fact, her grin seemed to broaden, as if she welcomed the challenge.

“Sure you do!” she exclaimed. “Just look at how much fun we're all having!”

Erwin watched as Levi glanced around their half of the room. Hanji did have a point--at a glance, it looked like a lot of fun. Any normal should have been tempted to join in, but Levi was stubborn, and he could not enjoy alcohol like the rest of them, anyway.

“I need to keep an eye on my squad,” he insisted, glancing over at the table of young soldiers nearby. They seemed to be acting just fine, no rowdiness whatsoever. It was unlikely that they were even drinking at all.

“You should probably be keeping an eye on someone else,” Hanji hissed, glancing over her shoulder. Erwin looked in that direction to see Moblit, Rowen, and Catherine sitting together. They all had been drinking pretty heavily, and none of them seemed ready to quit anytime soon.

“...They're adults. They can do what they want.”

Levi pulled his arm out of Hanji's grip.

“Levi, come oooon,” she whined, still laughing.

“I let you guys use my birthday as an excuse to throw a wild party; the least you can do for me is let me spend that time how I want,” he argued, his words crisp.

“We want you to have fun, too,” Erwin finally jumped in. “Relax. Enjoy yourself.”

Levi's face relaxed, but it was obvious by his posture that he still was refusing to join them in their merriment.

“I won't stop you from doing what you want--don't try to stop me, either.”

Hanji opened her mouth to say something else, but Levi stormed away before she could say anything. Sighing, she turned to Erwin, shrugging.

“I tried,” she said.

“He's the most stubborn person I know,” Erwin chuckled, and Hanji nodded, still standing across from him. “...You should probably leave him alone.”

“I will. I'm gonna. I just... I kinda wanted to talk to the kids in his squad.”

“What for?”

“I never talk to them. I feel like I should.”

Hanji walked off without another word, and Erwin sighed through his nose. He had other members of the Corps sitting around him, but out of all of those people, there was not really anyone he could call a “friend.” They were comrades and they got along, but that was different than “friendship.”

Erwin briefly closed his eyes; the sounds around him felt so familiar, and if he kept his eyes closed long enough, he could practically feel Mike and Nile sitting beside him.

 _So much has changed_ , he thought, resting his chin in his hand. _I knew that things would change, but I wonder if there's anything that hasn't changed. I wonder if there's anything reliable in this world at all._

Erwin knew that he was just overthinking things more than usual because he was a little drunk, but it _was_ something he had been mulling over a lot lately. Now that the new government was in place, changes were coming at him from every direction, and while he knew they were all good changes, it was still tiring.

If he had to be honest with himself, he needed a break. He needed some kind of getaway, just to rest his mind. But, he knew that would never happen, and he tried not to think about how nice that would be, to just not worry about anything for a while, to just rest.

He was tired, but that was just part of his job.

“...win? Erwin? Heyyy, Erwin!”

His eyes fluttering open, Erwin glanced up to see Hanji standing across from him again.

“Did you fall asleep?” she asked him, laughing quietly. Erwin then noticed how much quieter it had gotten, and he quickly looked around the dining hall. Most people had left for the night, including Levi and his squad.

“...How long has it been since I...?”

“Mm, maybe an hour?” Hanji gave him a sympathetic smile. “You probably needed it. Come on, let's go.”

Blinking slowly, Erwin finally removed his chin from his hand and pushed himself out of his seat. His body felt heavy, but his mind was alert now. Apparently, Hanji had been right--he had needed the rest.

“...Are you okay?” Hanji asked him. She looked a little more disheveled than usual, and it made Erwin laugh. “...Okay...now I'm really worried...”

“I'm fine,” he assured her. “I just realized...that I had fun tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 

…......

 

Hearing that Erwin had actually enjoyed himself for once made Hanji's heart feel warm. If anyone deserved it, it was him. He had been through so much, especially in this last year; he deserved the chance to rest, to feel alive, to have some semblance of normalcy, no matter how small or short-lived.

“...I'm glad,” Hanji said at last, her throat closing up as she looked at Erwin's calm smile. It had been a long, long time since she had seen him look at peace.

“Me, too,” he admitted. “It seems like everyone else was having fun for the first time in a while, didn't it?”

“Yeah,” Hanji agreed, nodding. “Hopefully tomorrow everyone can get some well-deserved rest.”

“...I think it might already be Christmas,” Erwin laughed. “We've been down here for a while.”

“Well, Merry Christmas!” Hanji exclaimed. Part of her wanted to reach out to Erwin, but she held herself back. She knew that if she tried to hug him now, she would not want to let go. It would be better when she was sober, when she could control her feelings a little better.

“Merry Christmas, Hanji,” Erwin said, smiling at her. “...Let's go. I think the party is pretty much over.”

“Yeah...”

Without another word, Hanji followed Erwin out of the now quiet mess hall and out into the hallway. She could feel the chill of the winter air even inside the castle, and she pulled her jacket a little closer around herself.

“Too bad Nile didn't come, huh?” Hanji asked, trying to make conversation to distract herself.

“He's probably busy,” Erwin told her.

“Ah, yeah, you're right. Marie had another child recently, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone's healthy?”

“I think so. I haven't heard otherwise.”

“That's good.” Hanji sighed through her nose. “I missed Mike tonight more than I thought I would.”

“I did, too.” Erwin let out a quiet chuckle. “I'm sure he has a grand time in the afterlife without us.”

Hanji could not help but let out a laugh at this comment. Everything about it was amusing--not just about Mike, but the notion that there was anything beyond this life.

“They can't be _that_ great if we're not there,” she joked, and Erwin nodded.

“Nanaba and the rest of his squad is there, though. And Levi's old squad. There are plenty of people to keep him company.”

“...Do you really believe that's a thing?”

“What?” Erwin raised an eyebrow at her. “Of course it's a joke--”

“I mean, about there being an afterlife.”

“Oh...well...” Erwin paused, narrowing his eyes. “...I can't say that there is, but there's no proof that there's not, right?”

Hanji gave him a quiet, incredulous stare, which made Erwin let out a laugh again.

“Don't take things too seriously,” he added.

“You're the last person who should be telling me that.”

Erwin shrugged, slowing his pace to a stop outside of his bedroom door. Hanji stopped, too, and she sighed quietly. She was not quite ready to part for the night, but it was probably for the best.

“Thank you, Hanji,” Erwin said suddenly.

“Huh? What for?” She laughed, adding, “I didn't exactly plan this party or anything.”

“Not for the party,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I never really got to thank you for anything before. You didn't have to stick with me that whole time. Both your efforts and Levi's helped the Corps become what it is right now. We're safe, and I sure as hell didn't do that--you did. I haven't thanked you this whole time, but had it not been for you, Trost would still be a hell-hole, and the Central Police would still be running around. And--”

“Enough,” Hanji whispered, lowering her gaze. “You're giving me way too much credit.”

“But you did all of those things--”

“I did all of those things because I just didn't want to lose you,” she mumbled, her throat closing up again. “And not just because I didn't want to become the Commander. I...”

Hanji knew this moment was inevitable--she just had not expected it to be this night, at this time.

As Erwin pulled her close, Hanji wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly. It took all of her willpower not to cry; she buried her face in his shoulder, taking deep breaths.

“I don't want to lose you,” she mouthed, gritting her teeth as she tried to ignore her trembling body.

After a few moments of silence, Erwin released Hanji, then turned and opened the door to his room. He took a few steps inside, and just seeing him walk away, seeing his silhouette in the dimly-lit headquarters, made her heart clench. She could not let him walk away, not yet.

“Wait, Erwin,” she said, following after him. “Wait.”

The second she reached him, she brought her lips to his; to her surprise, he had been ready for her.

 _God, why is this happening again_? she asked herself, once again wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Fuck,” she hissed as she pulled away. “I just--”

“Stay,” Erwin murmured, placing his hand on her cheek. She had not even realized that she was crying until she felt his fingers wipe away the tears.

“Erwin, I--”

“Stay, _please_.”

Before she could say anything else, Erwin kissed her deeply, his hand gently reaching down around her waist.

 _I thought we were done with this_ , she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. _I thought we were done hurting each other like this. You were the one who said...we couldn't be like this anymore..._

Finally, Erwin released her, and he walked over to his door, pulling it shut. He then turned back to Hanji, and she stared at him. She was not completely sober, but she was aware enough of what was going on, and also what was probably about to happen. It was not as if she did not want this--it was just that she had spent years telling herself that she could _not_ have it.

“I don't understand,” Hanji mumbled as Erwin walked over to her. “I thought we weren't going to do this anymore.”

“It doesn't matter,” he murmured, pulling her over to his bed.

“I thought that it did.” She yanked her arm out of his grasp and took a step back. “You said you couldn't let anything or anyone distract you.”

Erwin did not reply right away, but Hanji understood everything just by getting one good look at his face.

 _You've given up on yourself_ , she realized. _You don't care what happens to you anymore._

“...You can go, if you want,” Erwin said quietly, lowering his gaze.

“I don't want to go,” she told him.

“But you--”

“I'd rather hurt you over watching you keep hurting yourself.”

Erwin sat down on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor at his feet. Hanji walked over to him, standing in front of him, trying to decide what to say.

“I'm sorry.” Erwin's apology was barely above a whisper.

“...I've missed you,” Hanji admitted. He glanced up at her, and the pained look in his eyes made Hanji's heart drop into her stomach. “...I didn't think we would get you back.”

“...Part of me wondered if I'd make it back, too,” he murmured. “I guess...I just wasn't ready to die yet.”

“I'm...really grateful for that.”

Tears once again streaming down her cheeks, Hanji stepped forward and slowly sat down in Erwin's lap, kissing him gently on the lips.

“...I missed you, too,” he whispered, his hand resting on her hip. “I'm glad I came back.”

“Me, too.”

 


	14. Always Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowen spends his holiday with Lucia, ever grateful for her patience.

Rowen's head was still throbbing a bit from his hangover and a lack of sleep, but the cold wind on his ride back to Hermiha on Christmas morning healed him somewhat; his mind was distracted anyway, and soon he had forgotten all about his overwhelming urges to crawl back into bed and stay there for another day.

He knew, however, that he could not waste this opportunity. It was beyond obligation to his fiancée--he _wanted_ to see Lucia. So much had happened that he wanted to tell her in person. He had missed her more than he could express in the occasional handwritten letter.

Lucia was typically one of the first people up in the Edwards household; she and her older sister were notorious for being workaholics in their own peculiar ways. Rowen was not sure where they had inherited this trait from, since both their mother and their father were very laid-back and easygoing people.

The sun was just reaching over the wall by the time Rowen reached his hometown. It felt incredibly nostalgic to be back, and part of him thought that if he turned around, he would see Catherine and Bruno sitting behind him. He was alone for now, though, so he continued to Lucia's house without any delay.

The outside of their home looked about the same, which made him feel at ease. Despite the turmoil a few months back with the refugee situation, things seemed no worse for wear in Hermiha. It was still one of the safest places in the world.

Rowen was just tying up his horse when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Merry Christmas,” a familiar voice said, and Rowen smiled as he met eyes with Angelika Edwards, Lucia's older sister. “About time you came around again.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly, but Angelika laughed, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“I'm not the one you ought to be apologizing to,” she told him, shaking her head slowly.

“...I know.” Rowen hung his head, his stomach churning. “...Is she angry?”

“Hardly.”

There was another familiar voice now, one that Rowen would have recognized anywhere. He quickly turned around, and standing behind him was none other than Lucia Edwards, the love of his life, with a small, gentle smile on her face.

 _God, it's been so long_ , Rowen thought as he ran over to her, pulling her into his arms. _It gets harder every time._

“I love you so much,” he murmured as he squeezed Lucia tightly. She let out a quiet laugh, but he could hear tears, too.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

Rowen could feel his pulse in his throat, but it felt so good having her back in his arms that he could have cared less about his own physical state.

“Merry Christmas,” Lucia said at last, pulling back and placing her forehead against Rowen's. She gave him a big smile, and he could not help but return it, trying to force back the tears that had now decided to join them.

“Merry Christmas, Lu,” he laughed. “You got me this time.”

“You can't always win.”

Letting out another laugh, Rowen shook his head a bit, then kissed Lucia's cheek.

“I'll take it,” he murmured, taking her hands in his. She gave them a squeeze, her smile broadening.

“I hate to break this up, but we should probably go inside before we all freeze to death,” Angelika called out from the other side of the small stable.

“Mom and Dad will be really happy to see you,” Lucia said, nodding. “Your mother said that she'll be over today, too.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Rowen said, letting out a content sigh. He kissed Lucia's lips, then turned back toward Angelika. “Let's go, then!”

“...So, what about Catherine and Bruno?” Lucia then asked. “Are they not coming?”

“No--Bruno and Bianca are going somewhere else, and Catherine...”

Rowen let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. Last night had been somewhat of a blur, but he remembered drinking a lot--and Catherine had been there the whole time.

“She's probably still recovering from the party,” he said at last with a dark chuckle.

“Was it that bad?”

Rowen nodded, snickering.

“...I worry about her sometimes,” Lucia admitted.

“I do, too,” Rowen agreed, his face falling. “But to be honest, she's doing pretty well right now. This is probably the happiest I've seen her in a while, but I know she's under a lot of stress, so I'm not surprised she got that drunk.”

“Maybe sometime I ought to come and visit you guys,” Lucia said with a sigh.

“Yeah, you should!” Rowen exclaimed, giving Lucia's arm a swing. “I mean, I know you've been super busy lately, but you have the perfect excuse! Just say you want to interview someone and spend a weekend with us! Hanji wants to talk to you more!”

“I want to get to know them all,” Lucia admitted. “Hanji and Moblit seemed like really good people.”

“They are. I mean...we've lost a lot of good ones, but they're still around.”

“And then there's always Captain Levi and Commander Erwin, right?”

“Commander Erwin is busy, but Captain Levi definitely is around,” Rowen said, nodding. He then smirked, a dark chuckle escaping his throat. “Though I'm not sure he's really all that interested in _my_ company.”

“I want to see _that_ , too,” Lucia laughed.

“It's pretty funny.” Rowen tilted his head back, lifting his face up to the sun. “Ahh...I wish you could actually come.”

“Well, maybe I will. Don't give up hope already.”

 

…......

 

Every time Lucia saw Rowen again after a long period of time, it was obvious how much he had changed. The Survey Corps was not exactly fun and games, and he was under a lot of stress even on days that they did not have a mission.

To her relief, though, the changes that she saw were not ones that she cared about, and they were never entirely bad, either. She could see him aging, but she did not care about his eye bags. His smile had not changed, and his love for her was obvious. He came home safely to her each time--that was all she could really ask for.

Rowen's mother, Keira Walsh, was obviously overjoyed to see her son again, and Lucia felt such a pleasant warmth at seeing them all together for the holiday, even if it was just one day.

Her favorite part of the day, though, was when she could be alone with him, and they could finally just talk without any distractions.

“I really am proud of you, you know,” she told Rowen, who smirked at her. “Don't make that face. I am. You've survived almost five years in the Corps.”

“Did you not think I'd make it this long?” he teased, but Lucia rolled her eyes.

“It has nothing to do with what I think--you just never know what could happen,” she insisted, jabbing her fingers into Rowen's side. He let out a yelp, then slid away from her, on the opposite end of the parlor couch.

“Yeah, well...I'm proud of you, too,” he finally replied. “You were essential to helping the Survey Corps clear Erwin's name and save basically the entire regiment.”

“I didn't do too much,” Lucia admitted. “Beaure did all of the writing; I was only just watching from the sidelines. That was all I could do at that point.”

“But it was enough,” Rowen told her. His normally playful blue eyes were serious, and Lucia knew she should listen to him. “Had you not spoken up for us, who knows what could have happened. I might not be sitting here right now.”

“I doubt that--”

“I dunno, Lu. The guys at Central really wanted to take apart the Corps. We might have all been hanged.”

The thought of losing Rowen to the Titans was horrific enough that Lucia did not even want to think about what humans might try to do to him. Bruno and Catherine had been at risk, too, but she did not worry about them nearly as much, and it had nothing to do with her relationship to Rowen at all. Those two were sharp and could be manipulative if they had to be. They did not care if they had to tear someone down to get something done--especially Bruno, who had apparently been willing to kill someone in order to protect his friends and Captain Levi.

Lucia knew that Rowen did not have that strength. He was tough, and he was definitely intelligent, but she was more than aware that he did not have the guts to become that brutal. It was nearly impossible to imagine him ever trying to kill someone on purpose. He was probably more than capable of injuring people who got in his way, but to become as conniving as some of his comrades was just...unthinkable.

“Well...maybe now that things have settled down, I'll be able to help more,” Lucia said quietly, placing her hands in her lap. Rowen scooted over to her again, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“I'm sure you will,” he replied, smiling at her. “You're not the type to pass up an opportunity for more work as it is.”

It was true--Lucia knew how bad of a workaholic she could be, but she could not help it. She had always been this way, and now that Rowen was far away, she had nothing else to do to pass the time but to throw herself into her work. Now that she knew she could really make use of herself, though, it seemed to be paying off more than it had in the past.

“Make sure that when you write articles about the Corps that you make me sound really tough, okay?” Rowen joked.

“If I ever want to lose my job on purpose, I will,” she responded, smirking up at him.

“Oh ho ho, I see how it is.”

“Well, it's true. They all know who you are to me.”

“Ahhh, you talk about me? That's cute.”

“It's not like you _don't_. Hanji and Moblit seemed to be pretty familiar with me, too, you know.”

Obviously embarrassed, Rowen laughed quietly, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Okay, okay, you win.” He opened his eyes again, glancing down at her. “Sometimes I just really miss you, and it helps to talk to the others about you. It makes it seem like you're actually there with us...”

 _...I know it's been hard, but I'm so proud of you for sticking with it_ , Lucia thought, smiling up at Rowen.

“...You have to keep going,” Lucia murmured, lacing her fingers with Rowen's. “You promised me that you would see this through, and things are looking up. So...don't give all of that progress up for me. I want you to do this...because I know that you can.”

Rowen said nothing; instead, he gently tilted his head and rested against Lucia's.

“...I love you,” he whispered, but the expression on his face seemed pained. Lucia sighed through her nose, then placed her free hand on his cheek.

“I love you, too,” she said. “That's why, no matter how long I have to wait on you, I'll do it. I believe in you. I always will.”

“...Thank you, Lu. I...needed that.”

 

 


	15. Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rowen and Bruno speak with Erwin and Hanji about the future of the military, and what exactly their involvement will be.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in--pun intended.”

Sighing quietly, Bruno rolled his eyes at Rowen's jest, but he could not ignore the wide grin spread across his friend's face.

“It's been a while,” Rowen added, holding out a hand. Bruno took it, only to be pulled into a hug.

“Yeah, it feels like even longer,” Bruno admitted. Rowen let out a laugh, pushing Bruno away.

“You look like you've aged quite a bit since then,” he teased, and once again Bruno rolled his eyes.

“The only reason you have more hair than me is because your hair is longer than mine.”

Gasping loudly, Rowen clutched his chest, stumbling backward dramatically.

“Right through the heart, Bruno!”

“Yeah, that's typically how it works.” Bruno smirked as Rowen straightened up, the grin reappearing on his face.

“So, jokes aside, are you free tonight? How does dinner out sound? My treat,” Rowen offered, putting his hands on his hips.

“Who all is coming?” Bruno asked, straightening out his jacket.

“I think it's gonna be just us. Catherine's exhausted.”

“That's understandable.” Doing his best to hide his disappointment, Bruno nodded, crossing his arms. “Okay, I'll take you up on that offer. We should get going now.”

“Wait a sec--first, there's someone that wants to meet you,” Rowen said, pointing past Bruno. Turning around, he saw none other but Squad Leader Hanji headed their way.

“Bruno? Hi!” Giving him a bright smile, she stuck out her hand with enthusiasm that rivaled Rowen's. “It's so nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you from Rowen and Catherine! I'm sure you know my name already, but I've never gotten to actually introduce myself to you--I'm Hanji!”

“Bruno Sertoli.” Shaking Hanji's hand, Bruno could feel the energy radiating from her. “It's nice to meet you, too. I should thank you for all you accomplished this past year. Without your efforts, the Military Police would not have made it through those ordeals.”

“Aw, it's nothing.” Hanji waved her hand at him, chuckling. “You should thank the people of Trost and the Reeves Corporation--they're the real heroes.”

Bruno opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped short upon seeing Commander Erwin approaching them. He had not yet been able to formally introduce himself to Erwin, so he knew he could not take this opportunity for granted.

“Bruno Sertoli...” Erwin murmured when he reached them. “...You're quite the soldier. I should apologize--had the Survey Corps foreseen the trouble from the Central Police, we could have prevented much of what transpired last year.”

“It's no trouble,” Bruno assured him. “The duty of the Military Police is to protect the people, and that is not limited to just civilians--we must protect our fellow soldiers as well. We are allies, and we must work together to improve our world. I hope we can continue what we've started.”

“I plan to,” Erwin stated, giving him a small smile. “Actually, I've been wanting to speak to you for a while about bridging the gap between our two regiments.”

“Well, why don't you join us for dinner?” Bruno glanced back at Rowen, who shrugged and nodded in agreement. “Rowen and I were just talking about it. If you're free--”

“We'd love to!” Hanji exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“That shouldn't be a problem,” Erwin agreed. “We can meet you down in the stables in thirty minutes.”

“Perfect! We'll see you then,” Rowen said, giving them a thumbs up.

As Erwin and Hanji walked away, Bruno heard Rowen let out a quiet sigh.

“I wasn't planning on making this a business meeting--”

“Sorry, but I had to take this opportunity,” Bruno interrupted, turning back to his friend.

“...You and Catherine both really need to learn how to relax.”

 _He's not wrong,_ Bruno thought, frowning.

“I can't afford to,” he murmured, glancing toward the door to the conference room. “We still have...so much work ahead of us.”

 

…......

 

Rowen had been to this bar countless times before, but this was the first time he had ever gone without Catherine, and it felt admittedly uncomfortable. It was not that he did not spend time on his own without her, or even time with just Bruno, but this place held a lot of memories for him, for them. They had been coming here for years, so coming without her made him feel distant from her.

 _But, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised..._ he thought as he walked in with Bruno, Erwin, and Hanji. _It was only a matter of time before we all grew apart._

No one was more proud of Bruno and Catherine's accomplishments than Rowen. He bragged about them to anyone who would listen, and it was not just for show or for the sake of an interesting conversation; he was genuinely proud and honored to be their close friend. They both worked incredibly hard, so it only made sense that they would achieve great feats.

However, over the years, Rowen could feel that their paths in life were starting to pull them apart. As much as he did not want to believe it was true, it probably all started when he and Catherine joined the Corps, leaving Bruno on his own in the Police. Their communication had become strained, and now, Catherine was moving on with her own squad and her own goals. Even though they were in the same regiment, Rowen barely saw Catherine some days, which was a first for him and their friendship.

Still, Catherine and Bruno were his precious friends, and Rowen was willing to do anything to keep things that way--even if it meant going out and talking about boring shit instead of enjoying the evening and celebrating their progress.

“I've never been here before,” Hanji murmured as they sat down at their usual table in the corner. “It looks like it's gone through some hard times lately.”

“It took some damage during the confrontation between Kenny Ackermann and Captain Levi,” Bruno explained, and Rowen raised an eyebrow.

“Really?” he murmured.

“Yes--the Central Police's funds were dispersed to the businesses that suffered property damage during that time, and this was one of them. I recognized the name right away.”

“You two have been here before?” Erwin asked.

“All the time,” Rowen admitted. “Though not as much in recent years...”

“You guys have been friends for a while, right?” Hanji asked, to which Bruno and Rowen both nodded in response. “And Catherine, too. That must be nice to still have each other after everything that's happened.”

“...It is,” Bruno said quietly, and Rowen gave him a small smile of understanding.

“But, hey, we didn't come all the way out here to get all nostalgic and sappy,” Rowen interjected. “Commander Erwin, you wanted to discuss something, right?”

“...Yes,” the man admitted, a small smile appearing on his face. “I meant what I said about making sure our regiments all work together.”

“I don't doubt that,” Bruno responded, shaking his head.

“Then I'll say it outright: at the rate our world is change, we won't have room for a monarchy for much longer.” Erwin's voice was low, and the expression on his face darkened. “I can't really say that I trust Historia. She needs supervision, beyond just what your squad can do. All of the regiments should be actively supporting her--but also watching her closely until we know for sure that her motivation for taking the throne was a good one.”

“I agree,” Bruno murmured. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes--Armin Arlert is already functioning as a member of Catherine's squad, so having him work with your squad should not raise too much suspicion.”

Rowen pursed his lips, resting his chin in his hand.

“Isn't that a lot of responsibility to give to one person?” he asked.

“He already agreed to it,” Hanji said, shrugging. “In fact, he seemed eager to cooperate.”

“Come to think of it, I'm not sure what Armin's motivation for joining the Survey Corps was in the first place,” Erwin admitted. “Surely it was beyond just wanting to protect Eren.”

“I think so, too.” Bruno crossed his arms, sitting back in his chair. “The day of Eren's trial, I ended up escorting him and Mikasa to the courthouse; on the way there, he said some things that indicated to me that he was dissatisfied with the government and the way things were handled in the upper class. Some of that might have changed after what happened last year, but...”

“I believe that if we use him as a means of communicating information between our regiments, it will become easier for us to decide the next step we should take to not only change the functions of our current government, but also the next step to develop our regiments,” Erwin told them.

“...From the way you're talking, it sounds like you think we'll eventually do away with the military,” Rowen mumbled.

“That's kind of the goal,” Hanji confessed.

“What?!”

“We have Catherine's squad working toward the truth of the Titans now--if we can find out more about them, we can figure out how to expand beyond the walls and let our civilization grow. If that happens, then it's only natural that both the monarchy and the regiments will be dissolved.”

“It's not going to be something that happens overnight,” Erwin added. 'It might even take decades, but it's the future we're working toward.”

“I don't disagree with any of this,” Bruno said, “but let me bring the topic back to Armin. What are you proposing he should do?”

“Have him work closely with Claus and Bianca,” Erwin stated. “Let him learn about the functions of the Military Police, as well as its problems. He's also a friend of Queen Historia; giving them the chance to interact might be beneficial for her.”

“But for what cause? From the way you're talking, it sounds as if you're intending for the Military Police to be controlled by the Survey Corps.”

Rowen could tell that Bruno was testing Erwin--he could tell that he wanted something specific, a certain answer out of him.

“What we want is balance and communication,” Hanji explained. “We already have that with the Garrison, but Nile...because of his history with the Corps and Erwin, it's a challenge to approach him about the problems in his regiment.”

“That's why we've come to you,” Erwin added. “We know what you're capable of--we know you're not afraid to make sacrifices if it's necessary to fix a problem. We can't rely on Nile to do the same.”

“I'll ask you this straight out: are you intending to have Armin become Commander someday?” Bruno asked.

“...What do you think?” Erwin replied.

 _I think you've met your match_ , Rowen thought as he watched his friend's eyes narrow.

“...If he wanted to become Commander of the Military Police, I would trust him,” Bruno answered. “But that could change.”

“If it does, we know you'll be able to handle it.”

“...All right.” Bruno sighed through his nose. “Then I'll let Armin work with my squad. We'll do our best to educate him on the policies of the Police and its interactions with the government. However, if there's any indication that the Survey Corps has developed a group with any similarities to the Central Police, I will not hesitate to shut it down by whatever means necessary.”

“Good. Then it's settled,” Erwin said, smiling.

 _...I'm not sure I just understood everything that happened here,_ Rowen realized. _What do they know that I don't...?_

 


	16. The Sixteenth of June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was a good kid. A good friend.   
> Remembering him hurts.   
> Marco left too soon.

“I'll be back sometime tonight,” Yasmin whispered, waving goodbye to Milena and Rosaleen as she stepped out of their room. The sun was just beginning to peek through the windows, and it was obvious that the girls were still groggy, but they waved goodbye to her, nodding silently.

The halls of the Garrison headquarters were still quiet; very few people besides Yasmin were awake, and it hardly felt like the same bustling place it usually was. It almost felt as though she was sneaking out of the house or something like that.

“Good morning,” Yasmin murmured as she reached the stables. Her horse, Haluk, was one of the closest to the inner door; it perked up at the sound of her voice, whinnying softly. “It shouldn't be a long trip today.”

The Garrison headquarters was safely nestled inside Wall Rose, just to the west of the outer district of Hermiha, about a four hour trip to her hometown of Jinae. Normally, she would not have cared to take the trip, but she had a good reason to go there today.

Today was Marco's seventeenth birthday.

Or, at least, it should have been.

This was the first time Yasmin would not be at his home to wake him up, to eat breakfast with him, to give him a gift and a warm embrace--and it felt so wrong. As a child, and as a teen, Yasmin had admittedly thought that aging, that growing up, was weird. It was odd to think that every year they became slightly different people, that time was passing and they were being strung along for the ride. What she had not realized at the time was how much worse it was not have those experiences, to watch someone's time come to an end.

Now, time passed without Marco. He would remain a memory forever.

Still, even though he was no longer a physical presence in Yasmin's life, it felt wrong not to celebrate his birthday.

Yasmin wrote letters to Marco's mother, Freya, more than she wrote to her own mother. Freya had always been very easy to talk to, and it was nice to hear from someone living outside of the military that actually approved of her choice to leave home and join the Garrison. The two had made plans to celebrate Marco's birthday together this year; they had both had plenty of time to mourn, so it was about time they had some fun and enjoyed each other's company.

“Hi, Yasmin,” Freya greeted her when she finally arrived at the Bodt residence.

“Hey, Mom,” Yasmin laughed quietly as Freya embraced her tightly. As she wrapped her arms around the woman's shoulders, she heard her let out a quiet chuckle.

“...Haven't heard that one in a while,” Freya murmured. Blinking back tears, Yasmin buried her face into the woman's shoulder. “...Come inside. I've started lunch already.”

“I'll help,” Yasmin said, finally releasing her tight hold on Freya.

The Bodt's house seemed so quiet now, and Yasmin could see certain items gathering dust on shelves. Freya had not yet discarded the extra pairs of shoes near the door, either.

“How have you been?” Freya asked as she walked through the house into the kitchen. “You've been in that special squad for a couple of months now, right?”

“Yeah, it's been great,” Yasmin replied, smiling to herself as she followed after Freya. “I mean, it's definitely a lot to remember, but it's fun. I really like my Squad Leader.”

“Is that so?” Freya beamed at Yasmin as she returned to the boiling pot on the stove.

“Yeah, she's amazing. I can't believe she taught herself a language all on her own in the first place, and she's a really great teacher, too.” Yasmin pushed on the pump at the sink, then stuck her hands under the running water.

“...It does sound pretty incredible,” Freya murmured. “I wonder how long she's been studying it.”

“I don't know. She hasn't really said.” Yasmin shrugged as she dried her hands on a towel. “But I would assume it's been at least a few years.”

“How about the rest of the squad?”

“Mm, well...” Yasmin snickered, causing Freya to look up at her. “I don't want to brag, but I'm doing better than most people in the class.”

“I wouldn't expect anything less from you!” Freya laughed.

“Yeah, the only other person is Bianca--I've mentioned her in my letters before, right? She's so gifted.”

“Yes, I remember you mentioning her. She was one of the people from the Military Police, right?”

“Yep. I still haven't talked to her much, but she seems nice.”

“Why don't you talk to her?”

“Well...she and Claus tend to leave right after our lessons end, so I don't really get the chance to talk to either of them.”

Freya gave Yasmin a gentle smile.

“It's important to form strong bonds with the people you work with--whether it's in your squad or in a non-military job. The world is a little too small for us not to all learn to get along.”

“...You're right...” Yasmin shook her head, chuckling. “I don't know why I'm being so shy, to be honest...”

“...I'm sure it's hard. Because of everything that's happened, it's going to be harder for you to forge bonds with people, since I think deep down, you'll always be afraid of losing them,” Freya told her quietly, and Yasmin hung her head. Of all of the people to be lecturing her about this, Freya was, without a doubt, speaking straight from her heart. She had experienced enough loss in her own life to know what she was talking about.

“...I think you're right,” Yasmin admitted after a few moments of silence.

“Marco wouldn't want you to miss out on a thing.”

“I know...”

“...I miss that boy,” Freya mumbled suddenly, staring out of the kitchen window. “I know he must have gone down fighting, and I know that he would have wanted it to be this way...but that doesn't make it any easier.”

“Yeah...I can't even imagine how you must feel,” Yasmin sighed. She could feel that her hands were shaking now, and she knew exactly why: she had yet to tell Freya about Jean and Armin's revelation regarding the truth about Marco's death.

 _Is it even my place to?_ Yasmin wondered, biting her bottom lip.

“He wouldn't want us to be sad, though.” Freya's lips curled into a smile. “After his father left, he was constantly reminding me to be happy and grateful for the things I had left. And, even now, I still have so much left--like you, and your family.”

... _I can't do it_ , Yasmin realized. _I can't be the one to tell her. Not right now._

“Yeah, I have a lot left, too,” she said quickly, nodding. “I have you, and the rest of my family, and my friends... I have the people in my squad--Armin, Olivia, Jean--”

“Jean?” Freya echoed. “Do you mean, Jean Kirschstein?”

“Yeah, that one annoying kid I wrote about before. He's in my squad now, and...well, long story short, we're friends now, too.”

“Is that so...” Freya let out a quiet laugh.

“...What's that laugh for?”

“Oh, just...Marco wrote to me about him, too. He sounds like an interesting person.”

“...That's not the word I would use to describe him,” Yasmin muttered, to which Freya laughed again. “...You're definitely Marco's mom--he gave me that same reaction...”

As Freya continued to laugh, Yasmin smiled to herself. Even though Marco was physically no longer in their world, and he was definitely not with them there at that moment, he had left behind so many warm memories that Yasmin felt a little guilty being sad.

 _I'll smile a lot for you today_ , Yasmin thought, closing her eyes. _Happy birthday, Marco._

 


	17. Fair Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotta keep that piece of shit in line some way or another, I guess.  
> (NSFW content)

As Armin walked his horse over to its stall in the Survey Corps stable, he heard Jean let out a loud sigh.   
“I'm beat,” he groaned. “That was a long day.”  
“Yeah, odd how we're so tired after having a relatively 'normal' day,” Armin agreed, glancing over at his friend. “It makes me realize how different our lives are in the military.”  
“Especially after walking around a place like Hermiha,” Jean added, and Armin nodded.  
Their trip to the Hermiha district had been a relatively successful one; Squad Leader Catherine had obviously intended for the trip to be one on which the six members could get to know each other better and spend time together outside of the classroom. Indeed, it was the most Armin had ever talked to either Claus or Bianca, and he was glad to have been able to talk to them more, especially since he would soon be working even more closely with them as an ambassador to the Military Police.  
“...Seems like the only ones who didn't enjoy themselves were those two,” Jean muttered, jerking his head in the direction of their Squad Leaders, Catherine and Levi. They had been silent the entire ride back to headquarters, but Armin could now hear them arguing with each other, their voices low but full of an intense sort of energy.  
“...Olivia did say that Captain Levi saved Squad Leader Catherine from some angry merchant,” Armin murmured as he listened in on the argument.  
“Why can't you just admit that you were being reckless?” Levi hissed, his frustration obvious even from a few meters away.   
“Why can't you just admit that I would have been fine without you butting in?” Catherine snapped. “I was ready for him--you forget that I'm also a trained soldier.”  
“Yeah, but you were making a scene.”  
“You didn't make it any better.”  
“Squad Leader Catherine!” Jean suddenly called out, bringing the bickering to a halt. “Is there anything else you'd like us to do tonight?”  
That was brave of you, Jean, Armin thought as he watched the terse expression on Catherine's face soften slightly.   
“...No, you're dismissed,” she said. “Thank you both for today. Hopefully you enjoyed yourselves.”  
“We did, definitely!” Armin assured her. “Thank you again for treating us to dinner, too!”  
“It's nothing,” Catherine replied, a small smile appearing on her face. “Have a good night, you two.”  
“Yeah, you too.”  
But Catherine had already turned back to Levi, and the smile had disappeared from her face.   
“You forget that I grew up in Hermiha,” she told Levi in a low voice. “My father probably knows that asshole, so if he had tried to do anything to me--”  
“It's not about you,” Levi interrupted, raising his voice to drown out Catherine's. “You're a Squad Leader--your priority is to set an example for your squad, not to always be right.”  
“You're the one who can't seem to let this go.”  
“...I've never met two people as stubborn as them,” Jean muttered as he began to walk toward the door.   
“Yeah, except maybe you,” Armin teased, to which Jean let out a loud sigh.   
“Shut your trap, Arlert.”  
Snickering quietly, Armin followed Jean toward the door, listening to Levi and Catherine's argument fade into the background.  
“...You owe me.”  
“For what? For 'saving' me?” Catherine scoffed. “Please, you've got to be kidding me.”  
“I gave that man a shit-ton of money,” Levi argued.  
“Of my money.”  
“That you gave me.”  
“...Look, here, take this.” Armin glanced over his shoulder to see Catherine handing a small bag of money to Levi. “It's what's left over from today.”  
“...This isn't gonna cut it,” Levi growled.   
“Let's get out of here,” Jean murmured, and Armin nodded, following Jean through the inner door into headquarters, away from the awkward atmosphere that had filled the stables.

…......

Why does this keep happening...?  
Her grip tightening on her sheets, Catherine gritted her teeth as she tried to stifle a moan. She could feel Levi's fingers pressing into her skin as he pushed deeper and deeper into her.   
...It came to this after all...  
Encounters like this were becoming more and more frequent, but for whatever reason, Catherine did not really mind. She was benefiting from it, too, after all, and as much as she hated to admit it, it was the best way she knew of to get rid of her stress and anxiety.  
The best part about it was that there were no strings attached. None of this really meant anything to either of them except at its face value: sex felt good, it made them forget, it made them feel better.  
“Ah...ah...!”  
Catherine could practically feel her heart pounding in her throat now; her stomach, too, felt like it would rise up out of her at any moment.   
...I can't believe this is what it came down to, she thought, gasping for breath as she felt Levi increase his speed from behind her. Was it really such a big deal to him? Why the fuck does it matter?  
Catherine hated being wrong, and she knew Levi was the same way. She knew that they were both horribly stubborn, and a part of her now wondered if making him her assistant had really been the best choice after all.   
If we're just going to be arguing all the time, then what does that do for this squad? she asked herself as Levi leaned down over her, his hot breath on her shoulder. Is this really how we're going to solve all of our problems? ...Maybe Levi was right. Maybe I should've chosen Rowen after all.  
Rowen had been Catherine's best friend for twenty years now, and in that time, they had definitely had arguments, but usually they ended quickly and without much ado. Conflicts with Levi ended up like this, which had its perks, but realistically speaking, in the long run it would not do her squad much good. They were not getting anything out of this.  
“...You're...a pain,” Catherine breathed, her abdomen clenching before she could say anything more. She felt Levi's grip on her hair tighten in response.   
It was true--Levi was a pain.   
Still, something seemed right about choosing him for this job.  
She had to give him credit where it was due: he had called her out on her mistake, and not just that--he was insistent that she own up to it.   
...He has a point, Catherine realized as her body relaxed at last, the familiar sense of ease washing over her. I do have to set an example for those kids... If I'm running around causing trouble, then they'll start to think that they can do the same...   
“...You're even more of a pain,” Levi said at last, his breathing still a bit ragged. “Why the hell are your clothes so complicated?”  
Letting out a quiet laugh, Catherine sank down onto her bed, trying to catch her breath.   
“...My father is a tailor,” she replied. “He made all of my clothes.”  
“That doesn't answer my question.”  
“He did it to protect me--so that if I ever got myself into a situation where someone tried to...hurt me, I'd be able to buy myself more time to struggle and get away.”  
“Because you're reckless.”  
The realization struck Catherine hard, like a blow to the head. Levi was right--she was reckless. Not always, but enough to cause problems for people.  
“...Yeah, okay,” she admitted quietly. “You win.”  
Levi did not reply, but she felt him release his grip on her at last, sitting up on her bed.   
“You keep saying you didn't think choosing you as my assistant was a good idea, but I think it was,” she then said, resting her chin on her arms as she stared at her headboard. “You called me out on my mistake and had the guts to point out my flaws to my face. Rowen would never have done that--he's too nice.”  
“Are you saying I'm an asshole, then?”  
“Well, yeah, but I need that.”  
Startling her, Catherine felt Levi grab her by the torso and flip her over onto her back, so that she was looking up at him. He was staring down at her with a puzzled expression.  
“...You don't believe me?” she asked. Levi narrowed his eyes.  
“...The job I signed up for wasn't to baby you,” he muttered. “Of course I'm gonna point out when you fuck up. That's what they're paying me for.”  
“...Mm.” Catherine sighed through her nose, staring up at Levi. “Fine.”  
“Fine?”  
“I messed up. Sorry.”  
“Don't apologize--just don't do it again.”


	18. A Year Ago, On This Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We remember with them.

_It's been...a year... A year since the fall of Trost... By looking around this town, you might not know any better..._

Her grip on the flowers in her hands tightening, Milena glanced up at her friends. Yasmin and Rosaleen both wore uncharacteristically grim looks on their faces, and the latter was visibly trembling.

“...Let's go,” Yasmin whispered, and Milena nodded.

A year ago, on this very day, their lives had changed forever. The front gate of Trost had been smashed in, hundreds of people had died, and even more lives were destroyed. Milena had been one of the lucky ones; she had survived through all of that chaos, despite being fresh out of training.

But, she had lost so many friends instead.

The blood had been washed off of the buildings by now, and many of the destroyed houses had either been rebuilt or were under construction. Because of the Reeves Corporation, Trost had started to flourish again, and now that the Garrison had cannons atop the walls, they were better prepared to deal with any Titan related disasters. It was as if history was trying to erase itself, but Milena could not forget. None of them would ever be able to forget that day.

Even if all of the houses were rebuilt, even if all of the destruction was repaired, even if the town was financially successful again, that did not get rid of the pain they would always feel walking through this town.

Milena followed Rosaleen and Yasmin in silence as they walked through the city. She could see many of her comrades scattered around, laying down flowers and trinkets against walls. Part of her wanted to approach them, to catch up with them, but she knew that this was not the time.

When Milena and the others arrived in the all-too familiar alleyway where they had found Erin's body, it was as if she had been thrust back in time. Somehow, even in this now peaceful city, Milena could feel the sense of chaos again, and the scent of burning buildings filled her nose.

 _Erin..._ Milena thought as she pursed her lips. Rosaleen was already openly sobbing, kneeling down onto the stone path. _...I'm so sorry... We couldn't do anything for you...but..._

“Erin...” Rosaleen whimpered, doubled over, her forearms resting on the ground. “...Erin...”

Without a word, Milena knelt down next to Rosaleen, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She felt Rosaleen's body jolt in surprise, as if being touched had brought her out of a dream.

_...This is probably selfish of me to ask this of you now, but please, Erin... Watch out for us...until we can be with you again..._

Gently, Milena placed a flower on the stone path in front of her, then bowed her head.

... _Because we definitely will be together again someday,_ Milena thought, biting her bottom lip as she slowly stood up. _I know it._

 

…......

 

Yasmin could not bring herself to cry for Erin, and she was not sure why.

She was definitely sad--not as sad as Rosaleen, of course, but still very upset. But, her throat was dry, and though her stomach was churning and her head hurt, she could not shed any tears.

 _Erin, please don't hate me for this_ , Yasmin thought as she set a flower beside Milena and Rosaleen's offerings. _I miss you. I think about you every day--what you would be doing now, how different things would be with you around..._

“I...I have t-to leave,” Rosaleen sputtered at last, quickly standing up. “...It hurts too much to stay any longer.”

 _Maybe that's why_ , Yasmin realized, nodding at Rosaleen and offering her hand. Rosaleen quickly shook her head, forcing a smile.

“Thank you,” she mouthed, tears still pouring from her round green eyes.

Without another word, the three of them walked out from the alleyway, and before Yasmin could realize what she was doing, she was leading the way, down the same path Jean had taken her before.

 _God, I don't want to do this_ , she thought, clenching her jaw. ... _Maybe I...shouldn't..._

Turning the corner, Yasmin came to an abrupt stop.

“...Wow...” Rosaleen murmured.

“People loved him,” Milena mumbled. “I don't think there was anyone who hated him.”

Pursing her lips, Yasmin stared at the crowd of soldiers gathered near one of the buildings on the otherwise quiet street. Despite the amount of people, the air was calm, and hardly a murmur could be heard from them.

“Armin is there,” Rosaleen then said, pointing at the young man standing at the edge of the crowd.

“...Yasmin?” Milena said gently, placing her hand on Yasmin's wrist.

“...I don't...know if I can do this,” she whispered, feeling ashamed of herself.

“Well...fancy meeting you here.”

At the sound of Jean's voice, Yasmin slowly turned her head. He, too, had a somber look on his face, and there was a single flower in his hand.

“Hi, Jean,” Milena said with a slight chuckle. “It's been a while.”

“That it has,” he replied, giving her a small smile. He then turned to Yasmin, furrowing his brow. “...You haven't gone yet...?”

“No,” Yasmin admitted. “Not yet.”

“...Well, there's no time like the present, right...?”

Again, Yasmin hesitated. She was afraid of what this might do to her; she had managed to push everything down for so long that bringing this pain back up might destroy any self-improvement she had made over the past year.

“I...” Yasmin breathed, quickly looking away.

 _...I still don't know how to say goodbye_ , she realized, her heart pounding in her throat.

“...Come on, Yas,” Jean murmured, nodding in the direction of the crowd of their classmates. “You know what you've gotta do.”

“No, I don't,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

“...You're as stubborn as ever.”

Reaching out to take hold of her wrist, Jean gave her a small, bittersweet smile and gently began to pull her toward their destination. When they reached the others, suddenly all eyes were on them, and to Yasmin's surprise, bit by bit, the crowd dissipated.

“...I had a feeling you two would be here soon,” Armin laughed, giving them a sweet smile. “Look, Yasmin--don't you think he'd be happy?”

Yasmin glanced down at the pile of flowers and offerings, and immediately a lump formed in her throat. She was touched by the kindness of her classmates, of course, but nothing could change the fact that, just a year ago, there was a corpse lying in this very spot.

“...Marco,” she breathed, pulling her arm out of Jean's grip and kneeling down.

 _I'm so sorry, Marco_ , she thought as tears began to pour down from her eyes. _I couldn't do anything for you--I'm nothing like you. You were so wrong... I'm not strong...and I'm still not strong. At this rate, I might never be..._

Yasmin felt a warm hand on her shoulder; she knew it must be Jean, and the familiarity of the scene just made the flashes of her past memories even worse.

_Why couldn't it have been you that stayed behind? Why were you the one who had to leave...? You had everything--people loved you, and you would have been so successful and happy. But...I'm...just here. I'm just here. And I can't do anything._

“Yas...don't...”

Opening her eyes, Yasmin looked down at her hands; she had not even realized that she was bending the stems of the flowers she had been holding through her overwhelming grief.

“It's hard...I know,” Jean murmured.

“...Why did it have to be him...?” she sobbed. “It should have been me. He should have lived.”

“Don't say that.” Jean's voice was still quiet, but very stern. “It's not fair that he had to die--you've got me there. But don't act like you don't deserve to live, either.”

“...He didn't deserve to be betrayed like this,” Yasmin mumbled, gritting her teeth.

“I know. You're not wrong, Yas. But being bitter about this isn't going to help anything.” Jean let out a quiet sigh before continuing, “You have something to work toward now--we both do. And if we work hard, we can prevent this from happening to anyone else. We can stop people like Annie and the others from hurting our friends. Don't forget that.”

Yasmin swallowed hard, staring down at her hands. Slowly, she set her flowers down next to the pile of other gifts.

“...I just...want to know why,” she admitted at last.

“I know. Me, too. And we'll get there.”

“...I hope so.”

 

…......

 

“...Hey.”

Kneeling down next to the large fountain in the town square, Rico pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose, a small smile on her face.

“Dumbass,” she whispered, chuckling as she laid down a flower. “You really always fit that nickname, until the very end, didn't you, Mitabi?”

The stone pathway no longer was stained with his blood, nor was it crushed into rubble, but Rico would never forget seeing his last moments alive. Mitabi was someone who had been with her from the beginning of training, and he had always been one of her best friends.

“You were never a coward,” she murmured. “You were a dumbass, but never a coward. Never. Without you...we never would have survived Trost. Thank you.”

Pushing herself back up on her feet, Rico ran her free hand through her hair, letting out a quiet sigh. She had been walking all over Trost all day, visiting the death sites of her fallen comrades. It was hard to believe that only a year had passed without them--it felt as though this was all a terrible dream that had happened many, many years ago.

Glancing back at the wall, Rico narrowed her eyes as she stared at the large boulder sitting there. They had accomplished an amazing feat, something that had never before been done in all of the history of their world, but she still felt bitter. She had never really liked Pyxis' plan, and while she knew that they had not had any other choice, she still wondered if there might have been another way that would not have cost them so many lives.

 _At least things are getting better_ , she told herself, sighing through her nose as she walked across the plaza.

It was near sundown now, and many of the graduates of the 104th class were heading home for the day, but Rico did not mind the solitude. In fact, she preferred it to being surrounded by a crowd of people, especially now that she was down to her last visit.

... _Ian..._

Rico stared down at her feet, where Ian's head had been found after the battle. Where the rest of him had gone, she could only imagine; his body had probably dissolved with the rest of that Titan's body a long time ago.

 _You deserved so much better, Ian,_ Rico thought as she sat down on the ground, tucking her legs in. Placing the flower on the ground, she closed her eyes, then held her head in her hands. _I'm sorry that all I did was argue with you. I'm sorry I wasted so much time. If I had just listened to you...maybe you would have survived. I guess...we'll never know, will we...?_

Pursing her lips, Rico shook her head.

_After everything you did for me, I should have known better... I'm so sorry, Ian..._

Ian, too, had been with her through so much that not having him around left a definite void in her life. It was as if she had been dreaming since then--or perhaps, he had been the dream.

_...I'll never forget you. You always accepted me exactly for who I was--as fucked up as I am, and as I'll always be..._

Rico's grip on her hair tightened, and she gritted her teeth.

 _If things had been different, we could have just left this life,_ she thought. _We could have been normal people. But...I couldn't be that person for you. I'm sorry. Now you're gone, and I... I can't do anything to fix it this time..._

“Rico? Is that you?”

Opening her eyes, Rico quickly lifted her head and turned toward the familiar voice. Standing just a few yards away was Olivia, her head tilted slightly to the side like a curious puppy.

“It _is_ you,” she said, smiling. It was not her usual mischievous smile, though; there was a strange hint of kindness there that Rico had never seen before.

“What do you want?” Rico asked, unable to help feeling a bit suspicious.

“Nothing, really. I was getting ready to head back home, but I saw you here so...I was wondering if you wanted to go back together,” Olivia explained, walking toward her. “...But I can see you probably need more time.”

Olivia tapped her cheek with her index finger, and Rico reached up to her own cheeks; they were soaked with tears, and she quickly wiped them away.

“...No, I should head back, too,” Rico told her, shaking her head. “It's been a long enough day. There's no merit to dragging this out.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“Do you?” Rico could not help herself--she was not even sure if Olivia had any friends to mourn, or if she could even take something like this that seriously in the first place.

“...Ouch, Rico.” Olivia let out a laugh. “I might not have lost any friends or family in Trost, but that doesn't mean I don't know what loss is.”

“...I apologize. That was unprofessional of me.”

“Yeah, it was, but don't sweat it.” Olivia waved her hand. “You've had a rough day, I can tell. Who were you visiting? A friend?”

“...Something like that,” Rico mumbled, and Olivia giggled.

“I see... Well, whoever it is, I'm sure they're really proud of you for having survived this long--especially now that you have to put up with me, right?”

Rico was not sure how to respond--she could not tell if Olivia was genuinely trying to cheer her up, or if she was being her usual pain-in-the-ass self.

“...I suppose...” she murmured at last.

“You're a good person, Rico,” Olivia said. “I'm sure that whoever you lost thought that, too.”

“Gautier, what are you up to?” Rico asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Nothing.” Olivia shrugged, her smile fading. “I just don't like to see people that I care about feel sad or be hurt by anyone else.”

“You care about me?” Rico scoffed.

“Yeah, of course I do.” Olivia laughed again, adding, “You're my Squad Leader, right? Well, now you're like my family. I may not care much about my job, but I care about you. There's a difference, y'know?”

Rico stood in silence, staring down Olivia for a few moments. She was not sure if this girl was serious, or just plain stupid, but it had been a while since Rico had heard words like that from anyone...and it felt good.

“...Let's go home,” Rico mumbled, brushing her hands off on her pants. Olivia nodded, grinning. “...We all need some rest.”

 


	19. The Strongest Woman in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm betting my lunch on Sasha, actually.

Mikasa never particularly looked forward to training with Captain Levi. It was just something that she was doing to keep Eren happy; she had a hard time taking it too seriously, but she was good enough at faking it that, so far, she had been able to get by.

At the end of her last lesson, though, Captain Levi had given her a warning.

“Next time, you won't be fighting me. You'll be fighting someone else. You're gonna have to use your head.”

Mikasa wondered if Levi had seen through her act, but she did not care. To be honest, the fact that she was an Ackermann with these so-called “special” powers did not affect her mindset at all. She did not care if she was special--that would not matter in the end.

No, in the end, she had one goal, and that was to protect the person who mattered the most to her. She did not care about improving her strength for the sake of becoming stronger. Perfecting her techniques did not matter to her. For Mikasa, her raw strength and emotional motivation would suffice.

Captain Levi, however, obviously did not agree with her on this, and he was apparently going to do whatever it took to prove his point.

When Mikasa walked into the gym that morning, she saw that Captain Levi was already standing there waiting for her. He was not dressed in his usual athletic wear, but in casual street clothes.

 _He really isn't going to fight me at all today?_ Mikasa wondered. _Good. Then this shouldn't last long._

There was another figure by Levi; she was sitting with her back to Mikasa and was dressed down to a sports bra and shorts.

“Good morning,” Mikasa murmured.

“Do you remember what I told you last time?” Levi asked, leaning against the wall.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then I don't have to explain.” Levi glanced down at the person sitting near his feet and nodded. Slowly, the woman stood up and faced Mikasa; it was Squad Leader Catherine, and Mikasa raised her eyebrows in surprise. She knew that Catherine was a good soldier, but she was also a soldier focused on the academic side of the Corps. Why Levi had chosen her as a sparring partner, Mikasa could not be sure.

However, there was no mistaking that Catherine was there for a fight; her knuckles were already taped up, and her hair was pulled back out of her face. This was the first time Mikasa had ever seen the veteran out of uniform, and it hardly even seemed like the same person.

“Hurry up and get ready,” Levi instructed Mikasa. “Don't waste our time.”

Nodding, Mikasa dropped her bag on the floor and opened it up, pulling out her own athletic tape. As she began to wrap up her knuckles, she glanced over at Catherine and Levi, who were now having a quiet conversation.

“You're sure about this?” Catherine murmured.

“Yeah. You scared?” Levi replied, to which Catherine let out a quiet laugh.

“No, not really. Just wondering why I had to be the one to get dragged into this. Why didn't you ask Hanji?”

“Because I said I'd make it up to you.”

“Yeah, but--”

“Mikasa, do you know what people say about you?” Levi asked suddenly, speaking at full volume now.

“What do people say about me?” Mikasa replied, looking up at him as she trimmed off the last bit of tape.

“People have said that you're the strongest woman in the world,” Levi told her, and Mikasa pursed her lips. “You've earned yourself quite the reputation, but I don't think that about you. There are plenty of women stronger than you--right now, that is.”

 _You saying all of this doesn't exactly want to make me try harder_ , Mikasa wanted to say, but she bit her tongue.

“People call me the strongest person in the world, but I don't think that's right, either,” Levi then said, and Mikasa narrowed her eyes. “The way they measure strength? It's asinine. They're only looking at the surface. Strength goes deeper than that.”

Levi paused, glancing at Catherine before looking back at Mikasa. He stood up straight, crossing his arms.

“You have the potential to become better than you are now, Mikasa,” he said. “You're holding yourself back. And I don't just mean physically--but unfortunately, that's the only part I can really help you with.”

Mikasa stood up, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

“That's why, today, I'm giving you a challenge. Something that'll put things in perspective for you.” Levi nodded at Catherine and added, “Catherine will be your sparring partner today. I told her not to hold back, so you'd better try your damnedest to beat her.”

“...Understood,” Mikasa murmured, nodding once.

“All right, let's get started.”

Clenching her fists, Mikasa walked into the sparring circle, stepping up to Catherine. She was several inches smaller than her, just like Captain Levi, but Mikasa could see the fire in her eyes. The first punch had not even been thrown yet, but already her mind was at work.

“...He's asking you to be your best self,” Catherine whispered suddenly, staring up at Mikasa. “You want to be strong enough, but he's asking you to strive to be the strongest than you can be.”

Mikasa said nothing, only raised her fists. Catherine did the same, her sharp eyes locked with Mikasa's all the while.

“Stay sharp, Mikasa,” Levi told her as he handed Catherine the wooden knife. “The rules are the same as always: defend yourself and take away the knife. Three, two, one...”

Catherine was faster than Mikasa thought she would be; she dodged Mikasa's first punch with ease, then blocked the second. Her feet were dug into the floor, steady and sure. Trying to knock her off-balance now would be a waste of time and energy.

Mikasa backed off for a moment, and Catherine did the same.

 _I don't know anything about her weaknesses,_ Mikasa realized. _...She's small, like Levi, so she's fast, but...how solid is she? If I could just land a hit..._

Before Mikasa could act again, though, Catherine reached out and kicked Mikasa's knee hard, causing it to buckle for a moment. Still, Mikasa was able to catch herself, and she dodged Catherine's next attack just in time.

 _Shit..._ _I don't know what to do..._

Catherine's next attack was swift; the edge of the wooden blade scratched against Mikasa's arm, and she let out a yelp of pain.

“Stop,” Levi ordered, holding out his hand. “...Mikasa, I can tell that you're panicking. You're either not thinking, or you're thinking too hard. It's that kind of shit that'll get you into trouble in a real fight.”

Mikasa glanced down at her arm; she could see a small stream of blood trickling down.

“...Take a minute to clean up. In the meantime, _think_.” Levi nodded toward Catherine again, who was still tightly holding the knife in her hand. “She's not that different from you, but there's one thing that separates her from you. Veterans in the Corps like us? We aren't afraid to take risks. We aren't afraid to lose. Dying doesn't mean jack shit anymore. Remember that.”

 

…......

 

“You're being too hard on her,” Catherine murmured as she stood next to Levi. She glanced over at the teen, who had a cool, damp cloth pressed against her arm. “She's still a kid, Levi.”

“She'll be fine,” Levi grunted. “She has to learn.”

“I know that... But I don't think you're motivating her to try harder.”

“You think you can do better?”

“Hell if I know.” Catherine put her hands on her hips, sighing. “I barely even know her.”

“She's overprotective to a fault, Catherine. She has to learn to control her emotions.”

“Is that what makes us alike?” Catherine asked, raising an eyebrow as her arms fell to her sides again. “Being 'overprotective'?”

“So you admit it?”

“When you have something you don't wanna lose, you're willing to do anything to save it,” Catherine hissed in reply, looking away from Levi. “It's only natural.”

“How's your arm?” Levi called out to Mikasa, ignoring Catherine's remark.

“...Better,” she replied, pulling away the blood-stained towel. “The bleeding's stopped.”

“Good. Then your break's over.”

Mikasa obediently threw the towel aside and stood up. Catherine let out a quiet sigh, then turned to face her.

“Mikasa, this time you'll be the attacker,” Levi commanded, handing her the knife. “Fight like you mean it this time.”

“Understood,” Mikasa grunted, her grip on the knife's handle noticeably tightening.

“Three, two, one...”

Catherine was surprised at Mikasa's initial hesitation; it was as if she was mulling something over.

 _Is she going to quit?_ Catherine wondered as Mikasa stared at her feet, eyes narrowed. _Don't quit here. You have something you want to protect. Fight for it._

Mikasa's first strike was sudden, but Catherine was quick enough to dodge it. The next swipe came close to Catherine's hand, and she saw her chance and took it; without hesitation, Catherine reached out and grabbed Mikasa's wrist.

 _C'mon, Mikasa,_ she thought as she stared the teen down. _You're making this too easy..._

Just as Catherine reached up with her free hand to pry the knife from Mikasa's hand, something seemed to switch on in Mikasa; her grey eyes lit up, then narrowed to slits. Her other hand grabbed Catherine's wrist, then twisted her arm around. Catherine could feel Mikasa's foot dig into the small of her back, then kick her onto the floor.

The fall knocked the breath out of Catherine, and she quickly rolled onto her back, just in time to stop Mikasa's attack by grabbing her forearms. Mikasa was bigger, though, and slowly, the tip of the knife came closer and closer to the skin on Catherine's stomach.

Catherine slammed her feet into Mikasa's abdomen in an attempt to push her off; it worked, allowing her to get on her feet again, but Mikasa's counterattack was swift, and Catherine was barely able to dodge it.

 _We're not playing around anymore, then,_ Catherine thought, as she stepped back to kick Mikasa's attacking hand. But, before she could execute it, Mikasa reached out with her free hand and grabbed Catherine's hair, sharply pulling her off-balance.

Mikasa's knee then collided with her forehead, and Catherine let out a cry of pain. Her vision whited out for a moment, but she felt Mikasa release her grip, letting her body fall onto the floor.

“Enough!” Levi commanded. “...Mikasa, that was better. You adapted to your situation and changed your tactics. ...But you're not going to always be able to use that same cheap trick on everyone. Just...keep that in mind.”

“Yes, Sir...” Mikasa murmured.

Her vision coming into focus, Catherine tried to lift her head, but her neck was sore, and her forehead was throbbing. She then saw Levi crouch down next to her, and she pushed herself up to look him in the eye.

“You lost,” he told her, and she grimaced.

“One out of two,” she muttered.

“...You're in no shape for a tiebreaker round.”

“...Are you all right?” Mikasa asked, kneeling next to her.

“Yeah.” Catherine gave her a small smile. “Nice shot.”

“...Sorry...”

“Don't be. It's part of your training.” Pushing herself up onto her knees, Catherine added, “Everybody has their weaknesses, after all.

“...I still have to learn to hide mine, then... That's what you're trying to say?” Mikasa looked at Levi, who nodded.

“If you're that easy to read, then you're not only gonna hurt yourself, but the thing you've been trying so damn hard to protect,” he murmured.

 _...You would say that_ , Catherine thought, a wry smile spreading across her face as she slowly stood up.

“...We're done for today,” Levi said, standing as well.

“...Thank you,” Mikasa mumbled, standing in front of them. To Catherine's surprise, she gave them both a salute. “...I'll try harder from now on.”

“...If not, I'll bring her back to kick your ass again,” Levi replied.

“...Maybe I should cut my hair,” Catherine murmured to herself as Mikasa walked away.

“Don't,” Levi said quickly, and Catherine glanced at him. “...It's not like it'd help you now, anyway.”

Rolling her eyes, Catherine shook her head.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “I'll see you later--if you need me, I'll be in bed with an ice pack on this lovely souvenir she gave me.”

Levi gave her a smirk, but Catherine could see the concern hidden in his gaze, too, and she sighed through her nose, walking over to her bag without another word.

 


	20. Harmony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's gone beyond just a hobby for these rich kids.

“Ah, we're out of ice again...”

At Serene's dejected murmur, Bianca glanced up from her notes and looked over at the center table in their room. Serene was standing next to it, an empty glass in one hand, and the lid of the ice container in the other.

“It's so hot...I hate it,” she groaned.

“Me, too,” Bianca admitted quietly, turning back to her book.

The girls' room fell silent once again, and Bianca sighed through her nose. She did not mind rooming with Serene anymore--in fact, they were actually a good match. Serene respected Bianca's need for personal space, and vice versa. She did not pry and was very gentle. Bianca got along with her better than she had initially anticipated; it seemed that Serene was, after all, a genuinely kind person.

However, today, Bianca did not want to be around her. It was nothing personal, but Bianca could not quite place what exactly was making her feel this way.

“I'm going to go get some more--I'll be right back,” Serene said, walking over to the door.

“Okay,” Bianca mumbled, glancing up just in time to see Serene walk out of the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

 _...I really don't have any focus today_ , Bianca realized as she tapped the end of her pencil against her notebook. _This is the last thing I want to be doing..._

Suddenly, Bianca heard a strange scratching noise at the door; she whirled around in her desk chair, her heart thundering in her chest.

However, all that she could see was one end of a cello's bow sticking through the door.

“...Give me five minutes,” Bianca said with a sigh of relief. She heard Claus let out a quiet laugh from the other side of the door.

“I'll be waiting for you.”

Shoving her notes away from her, Bianca slid back her chair and hopped to her feet.

_This was what I wanted._

As she pulled her uniform jacket on, Bianca heard the door open behind her.

“Oh, are you going somewhere?” Serene asked, obviously confused.

“Just for a little while,” Bianca told her, giving her a small smile. “If you need me, I'll be in the music room.”

“Ah, I see.” Serene's face brightened, and she nodded enthusiastically. “I really want to hear you guys play... I'll be down later!”

“Okay.”

The bright summer sun was shining brightly through the Military Police headquarters that day, and Bianca could already feel herself beginning to sweat. She had always hated the rule of “professionalism”--that all Police soldiers must wear their uniform jackets outside of their rooms--and today was no exception. But, unlike most days, today she had a distraction, a good one.

Bianca and Bruno had both learned to play piano at a young age; while Bruno had abandoned it at some point in his childhood, Bianca had kept with it. It was what had kept her busy in the year before she joined the military, that year she spent with Lucia's family, without her brother, or Catherine or Rowen. Playing piano had also brought her and Claus together, giving them the common point they desperately needed in order to seal the bond of their admittedly complex friendship.

It had been a while since Bianca had sat down and played, though. Things had been busy lately, especially since joining Catherine's squad, and she had been unintentionally neglecting the Police headquarters' music room.

As she walked down the hallway toward her destination, Bianca could hear the faint sounds of Claus' cello; he was probably warming up, judging by the simple scales he was playing.

“Good, you're here,” Claus said as she opened the door. He was sitting near the window, his cello sitting in front of him. “It sounds so empty by myself.”

“It's not like there aren't cello solos,” Bianca told him as she walked over to the piano. Rolling up her sleeves, she gently traced her fingertips over the keys.

“Well, yeah, but I don't _know_ any of them,” Claus laughed.

“That's not _my_ problem.”

“Fair enough.”

The moment Bianca pressed down upon the old grand piano's keys, she felt her skin crawl with goosebumps and jitters. Each one she touched fueled her nostalgia, bringing back memories of all kinds.

It was not until Claus joined in, however, that she felt the mood shift in a more decisive direction. Their duets always gave her such a sense of peace, a sense of belonging. Even if what they played was a somber tune, it made her happy to be playing, and to have found someone to play with her.

 _It's not the same when I'm alone_ , she thought as the music room filled with a joyful song.

 

…......

 

Claus knew that he was out of practice; he could feel the strings underneath his fingertips more sharply than before, meaning that the callouses on his fingers had begun to weaken.

 _It didn't used to matter_ , he thought, smiling to himself as he glanced at Bianca on his right. She looked at peace--something that he did not see from her very often, and it made his heart warm.

When he was a child, Claus had been forced to take up music lessons by his parents, who had insisted it would build character. Why they had chosen cello for him, he was not entirely sure; honestly, it was probably only based on the availability of music teachers in his hometown. Still, he had hated it. It was boring and, at the beginning, painful. He could remember days where his fingertips had started to bleed during long practice sessions.

Upon joining the military, he had told himself that playing cello was one of the many things he could leave behind--and he did just that, for a while. It was not until Bianca became a significant part of his life that he picked it back up again and, oddly enough, began to love it.

Claus loved playing with her; it was boring to play by himself. Because he had hated it so much as a child, he had never bothered pushing himself to learn solos, but now, he did not mind it so much. Bianca would always play with him, for hours if they could get away with it. Before, it had simply been a chore, but now it was something that brought him true happiness.

As they finished their third song together, Claus heard someone knock on the door.

“Hi, guys,” Serene said, peering around from the other side. “Do you mind if you have an audience?”

“You said you'd be coming down,” Bianca murmured, cracking her knuckles.

“ _You're_ the shy one,” Claus added, smiling up at Serene, who blushed.

“I-I just really like to listen to you guys play,” she admitted, a bit flustered.

“Then sit,” Bianca told her. “What do you want to play, Claus?”

“Me?” Claus turned around to look at Bianca. She had a small smile on her face, and there was a hint of smugness to it that made his ears get hot.

“For our guest,” she said calmly.

“...Something by Hummel...?” he mumbled at last, turning back around.

“'Les Adieux'?”

“Fine.”

The room fell silent as Claus readied his bow and closed his eyes, waiting for Bianca to start.

 _If someone had asked me ten years ago if I'd still be playing cello, I would have laughed in their face_ , Claus thought as the melody began.

After all, it had not mattered back then. Claus had not cared about playing cello, especially playing harmonies. It had all seemed like a waste of his time.

Now, however, it was something he treasured, more than he was willing to admit. No, rather, it was something that he could not put into words. And he knew Bianca felt the same. The bond between them was not one that could easily be explained.

 _Well...maybe someday_ , Claus thought, pursing his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, letting himself fall into the waves of their music.

 


	21. Bargaining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ymir must prove her worth to survive--but not for her own sake. Not anymore.

“...Hm... If I had known that your village was this nice, I would have left the inner walls much sooner,” Ymir chuckled darkly as she followed Reiner and Bertholdt into the shifter settlement. Even though this was not her first time here, it still was impressive how well they were living. An isolated village like this normally would fail, but they had technological advancements that Ymir had yet to see within the walls at all.

“Enjoy it while you can,” Reiner grunted, leading Ymir toward what was probably going to be the last place she ever saw.

Ymir knew that she had failed them. The plan had been to bring Historia with her, back to this settlement. But, not only had she not been able to do that, she had attracted the attention of the entire military. It was a hell of a fuck-up, and Ymir knew that.

Still, her brain was working overtime to figure out a way to talk herself out of this, to get one last chance. She knew that, if she could just get back there one more time, Historia would come with her.

 _Now that I know about that Sertoli girl, that should make things a bit easier on me..._ she thought as Reiner held open the door for her. Reluctantly, she entered the small office.

“You're back already?” Zeke asked, raising an eyebrow at them. He did not look pleased, and Ymir grimaced. “...Let's talk, shall we?”

Sighing through her nose, Ymir followed Reiner and Zeke down the main hallway of the small building, back into the small conference room. It was rustic, but Ymir noticed working electricity instead of lanterns, and even the fireplace seemed much safer than the ones she had seen in human territories.

“Have a seat,” Zeke told them as Bertholdt closed the door behind him. “...I don't see Historia.”

“We're gonna have to rethink things,” Ymir replied, sitting between Bertholdt and Reiner. She would have much rather have been standing so that she could pace and work out this horrible nervous energy, but she did not want to seem threatening, not in what would probably be her last chance to plead for her life.

“What do you mean by that?” Zeke asked, adjusting his small glasses.

“We didn't get Historia back,” Bertholdt said quietly, hanging his head.

“...Then this was a waste of time?”

“I'm beginning to wonder,” Reiner muttered, but Ymir sat up straight in her seat.

“No,” she insisted, shaking her head. “You might think that it was, and I'd be an outright liar if I said that I didn't fail, but it wasn't a waste of time.”

“...I'm not sure that listening to your explanation will be worth it, either,” Zeke grunted, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. Ymir stared at him as he went on, “It was probably a mistake not to kill you the first time. After all, you consumed one of our best warriors, and his power belonged to _us_. You claimed that you would be able to bring back the Queen and in time, Eren. So far, you've been nothing but a burden to us.”

“Hold on,” Ymir snapped, leaning forward in her seat. “You can say what you want about what's happened, but _I'm_ telling you that there's still shit to be done. Shit that only _I_ can do.” She gestured to Reiner. “Do you wanna send another one of your warriors in to try to do what _I'm_ trying to do? You know what they'd do to them? Things that are a hell of a lot worse than what you wanna do to me.”

Ymir lowered her arm, gritting her teeth.

“The last time you tried to do that, the last time you tried to send in one of your people to do your dirty work, she ended up locked up in the basement of the Survey Corps headquarters. And she's _still there_.”

“Annie was a failure,” Zeke stated, and Ymir clicked her teeth in disgust.

“...Do you know anything about the Sertoli family?” she whispered, narrowing her eyes. She noticed Zeke's face light up, and she smirked. “That's what we're up against. We didn't know that before.”

“...What happened?” Zeke asked at last, and Ymir sighed through her nose, relaxing back into her seat. She could win this argument--and one more chance--if she could keep this up.

 

…......

 

“I managed to convince Historia to come with me, but before we could actually leave, one of the Military Police elites showed up,” Ymir explained, and Bertholdt narrowed his eyes. He had not been there to witness the showdown, but he was more curious than ever to know more about this girl. “Her name's Bianca, and I won't lie--she's quite the terror.”

“How do you know she's a Sertoli?” Zeke inquired, rubbing his chin in thought. Ymir shrugged.

“I guess I don't for sure, but it makes sense,” she replied, tilting her head. “While I was living on the streets, I learned that the youngest generation of that family was in the Police. The odds are that at least one of them is a shifter like us, and sure enough, Bianca has the healing powers.” Ymir paused, then added, “You can see it in her eyes. The gold. She's a natural one, like me.”

“...You said that you managed to convince Historia to come with you,” Zeke continued. “How do you know--”

“Wait,” Reiner interrupted, and Bertholdt glanced at his friend. He was staring at Zeke with a slightly confused expression. “I don't understand. Removing the Queen would just be a disaster for us in the end, right?”

“What do you mean?” Zeke asked. Bertholdt noticed Ymir's harsh stare at Reiner, and he swallowed hard.

“If we take Kris--Historia...out of her position of power, who's going to take over for her? It'll be the Police,” Reiner explained. “If that happens, won't that put the Sertoli girl in a seat of power, too? If she really _is_ a shifter, then she has the power to come after us.”

“You dolt,” Ymir hissed. “You're missing the point. If we have Historia, we can get Eren--the _coordinate_. And if Bianca's a shifter, she'll be a slave to that call as much as any of the rest of us.”

“How do we know you won't just eat him?”

“Who, Eren?”

“Yeah.” Reiner pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at Ymir. “That'd be pretty convenient for you, wouldn't it? Eating Eren, having Historia back. You'd be able to control everything. Isn't that how it was supposed to be for you in the first place?”

“What are you saying, Reiner?” Bertholdt murmured.

“Don't you remember at Utgard?” Reiner asked, turning to Bertholdt. “Or even when we were in the forest with Eren? Ymir used to be a queen, too. In fact, she's probably the rightful queen of our civilization.”

Bertholdt stared at Reiner, then looked at Ymir. Her gold eyes were narrowed, and her head was bowed.

“Reiner, you're not wrong,” she murmured. “Your civilization would never have existed if it hadn't been for me. But...I don't want that anymore.”

“Why not?” Reiner argued. “It would keep you safe, and--”

“You don't know what it's like,” she growled. “Being a ruler like that? It means that you throw away your freedom, your happiness, for everyone else. D'you really think that I wanna live like that again? Why do you think I want Historia outta there so bad? It's not just because I love her--it's because I know what that's like. And I don't want it anymore.”

“Then what do you want?” Zeke asked.

“...I just want Historia back,” Ymir insisted. “And I'll do anything for her.”

“...Wait,” Bertholdt said, sitting upright in his seat. He bit his bottom lip and glanced at his friends. “I think that...we've been missing the point.”

“Of what?” Reiner scoffed.

“Ymir has been around longer than any of us,” Bertholdt pointed out, his hands shaking as he gestured to Ymir. “If we killed her now, it would be a waste of resources. She knows things that we don't--like with Bianca. I had...never heard about them before. I'm sure there are plenty of other things we don't know that she does. And...I know she's telling the truth. She would do anything for Historia.”

“Bertholdt,” Zeke said firmly. “What you're saying isn't wrong, but it's not doing much to convince me to keep her alive.”

“If you don't trust her, then at least use her to get Historia back!” Bertholdt exclaimed. “There's no way Historia will listen to just us. If Ymir is gone, she'll leave! Or worse--she'll capture us, and then everything will go to shit.” He gritted his teeth, then let out a heavy sigh before continuing, “If you really don't trust her, then...just let us use her to get Historia back, and once we're back here, Historia can eat her.”

The room fell silent, and Bertholdt sat perfectly still. He knew that he was letting a bit of personal bias mix with his better judgment, but he knew that part of what he was saying was true, and he also knew that Zeke would have to recognize that, too. Ymir knew things that they did not know, things that they _could_ not know, as they had not been on this earth for as long as her. And he...still had so many unanswered questions...

“I agree to that,” Ymir declared. “I'll get Historia back, and if you still don't trust me, give her a serum, and she can eat me.”

Zeke stared at Ymir, then glanced at Reiner and Bertholdt.

 _We have to keep Ymir on our side,_ Bertholdt thought, glancing at her, then Reiner. _If not, then...I'm not sure what just Reiner and I can do on our own...with things the way that they are..._

“...I...don't think it'd be right...to kill a friend,” Reiner murmured, and Bertholdt grimaced.

_Don't say anything else, Reiner..._

“...I'll agree to it,” Zeke stated crisply. “One more chance. You bring Historia back, or you die. Is that clear, Ymir?”

“Crystal.” Ymir smirked, then glanced at Bertholdt.

 _Don't let us down,_ he thought, nodding at her.

 

 


	22. A Closed Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To remain detached is not possible anymore.  
> They're slowly beginning to realize that.  
> NSFW content

Levi did not enjoy confrontation, not when it was clearly unnecessary to accomplish his goal. However, he was not always the best at communicating his intentions either, and sometimes, he found himself in a conflict without intending to be in the first place.

Catherine was really one of the few people he felt he could talk to and present himself as he was and still, for the most part, remain non-confrontational. Then again, he had never really had any personal conversations with her, so perhaps they just had not been put to the test yet.

But now, he felt that he did not have a choice. He did not want this to be hanging over his head any longer than it had been.

“Come in,” Catherine called out when he knocked on her door. Nothing unusual--when he opened the door, she was at her desk, notes splayed across it. There was a half-empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor next to her desk drawers. “...What is it?”

Levi glanced up at her before slipping off his shoes and shutting the door behind him. He was not sure how to begin this conversation; he only knew that he just wanted to get it over with.

“...You didn't tell me that Bruno is in love with you,” he murmured, looking up at Catherine again. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise, then slowly put down her pencil.

“...Bruno is...in love with me?” she echoed. Levi pursed his lips, then walked over to the end of her bed and sat down. “...What the hell makes you think that?”

“...I might have heard it from someone...”

“So, Bianca?”

Levi did not reply; there was no point, not when she clearly was already one step ahead of him.

“...Why did she tell you that?” she asked quietly after a few moments of uncomfortable silence. “Why wouldn't she come to me instead?”

“...You'll have to ask her,” Levi mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

“...Hm.” Catherine turned her chair around to face Levi. “Maybe she was afraid to hear what I would say about him.”

“...What would you say about him?”

“...That I didn't know. If he had loved me this whole time, then...why didn't he do anything about it? He didn't...say anything or _do_ anything... If he had, maybe things would be different, but--I don't know. I guess that's not the point. I don't love him.”

Levi had to bite his tongue to keep himself from letting out a sigh of relief.

“Still, it's odd that Bianca even said anything to you about it in the first place,” Catherine went on. “...Did she...say anything about...”

“She just said she was...asking me for Bruno's sake,” Levi told her, and Catherine let out a low hum. “...What?”

“She... _asked_ you something?” Catherine furrowed her brow, staring at Levi. “...She's...been acting different since the ball.”

“Yeah, she has,” Levi agreed. “She told me she was going to try being more honest about things, but I don't know what the hell she meant by that.”

“...Well, either way, that's definitely... _different._ ”

 _She's not the only one who's been acting differently,_ Levi wanted to say, but again, he bit his tongue. _This...didn't go the way I thought it was going to go. I didn't think it'd be this easy. You_ _ **never**_ _make things this easy._

“...You don't like him very much, do you?” Catherine asked with a low chuckle. “Bruno, I mean.”

“...I don't trust him the way you do. Sue me.”

“He saved your life.”

“Only because you told him to. We've been over this before.”

“It doesn't matter.” Catherine leaned forward in her chair toward him, smirking. “He doesn't listen to _everything_ I say--just like a certain _someone_ I know.”

“No one is going to do everything you say,” Levi muttered, to which Catherine only laughed again.

“No, I guess that's true. Still, you ought to give him a little more credit. Or...are you jealous?”

“Jealous?” Levi sputtered. “Of what? Of his status? Of his military position?” He narrowed his eyes as Catherine drew her face closer to his, frowning. “...I don't really care. Anything's an improvement over where I came from.”

“Not even the tea?” Catherine asked, smiling wryly.

“God, woman, I have self-control. It's not something I need.”

Levi could taste the faintest hint of whiskey on Catherine's lips as she kissed him; her hands were warm against his neck, and he could feel the blood rushing to his head. But before Levi could act any further, Catherine pulled her lips away and gently pressed her the tip of her nose against his.

“...I'm really glad that you're the one I fell in love with,” she mumbled before wrapping her arms around his neck.

“...You're crazy...” Levi breathed, his heart pounding in his chest so hard that it was starting to ache.

 

…......

 

“What?” Catherine murmured, pulling herself into Levi's lap. She had admittedly been day-drinking to get through her tedious workload, but that had been a couple of hours ago, so she was not entirely sure what she had heard and what she had imagined.

“How can you say that?” Levi mumbled, staring at her with narrowed eyes. His gaze was not harsh, though, just confused. “You...can't be sure of something like that...”

 _...He might be right_ , Catherine told herself, closing her eyes for a moment. _I...probably shouldn't have blurted that out. We're not exactly in that kind of world... But I... God, holding it in hurts, too..._

“...Don't.”

Catherine's eyes fluttered open as she felt Levi's thumb brush a tear from her cheek.

“Why are you crying?” Levi asked her. “...I...didn't meant to--”

“Shut up,” she whispered. “I knew what you meant. You're not wrong, Levi. I just...”

 _God, it poisoned me_ , she thought as Levi wiped away another tear. _Being back in Sina, thinking I could be normal after all that's happened... No. I'm too far past that now. I have a job to do..._

“...We have...jobs to do...things to do,” Catherine murmured.

“Yeah...I know,” Levi sighed.

She felt his hand run over her hair, and she resisted a shudder.

 _But this...isn't this kind of talk...what Hanji warned me about?_ Catherine then realized, clenching her jaw. _Fuck... This is too complicated now... What happened?_

Relaxing into Levi's grip, Catherine gently pressed her lips against his. He did not resist, but once their lips parted again, he grimaced.

“...That excuse never works, does it?” he muttered.

“...No,” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut.

Though it did give her some relief to know that Levi felt the same, it also was disconcerting. She did not want to hurt herself, but she did not want to hurt him, either. What was the right thing? What was she supposed to do now? To distance herself from him seemed like a good idea to some degree, but the thought of pushing away somebody who had become such an important part of her life left her with a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Ugh,” she grunted, placing her forehead on Levi's shoulder.

“What?” he mumbled.

 _I shouldn't have said anything to him_ , she thought as Levi lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.

“...This is...complicated,” Catherine whispered, and Levi glanced away.

“Yeah...it is.”

She had not realized it until he kissed her again, but her desire for him to swallow her, to consume her, to take her away from all of this, had grown in the past few days. It was not something that he was capable of doing--this much she understood--but that did not change her desire.

Catherine had realized something on the night of the ball: she had never felt a sense of belonging anywhere other than with the Survey Corps. But, on top of that, she had never felt such a strong connection with a person before until meeting Levi--no, it was not when she had met him. It was when they had started to open up to each other, at some point along the road, when they had started to let each other in. And now that he was in, she could not let him leave. She did not want to.

She loved her job, she loved her squad, she loved the Corps and all of her comrades, she loved her friends and family, but nothing was like what she felt for Levi, and it terrified her even more than before, now that Levi was starting to feel the same sense of attachment. It was not a burden--it was just something that she did not want to ruin.

 _...In the end, we still hardly know a thing about each other_ , Catherine realized as she pulled away from Levi. _...Maybe it's for the best that way...but still..._

“...You look like you want to say something,” Levi told her. “Say it.”

“...I...want to learn more about you,” she admitted, and Levi narrowed his eyes in confusion. “...Don't look at me like that. You told me to say what I was thinking.”

“What do you even mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.” She gave him a small smile, then added, “I don't really know you that well, but you seem to know plenty about me.”

“No, that's not true,” Levi argued. “You're not an open book, you shit. But I'm not gonna force you to tell me anything, either. It's your decision, not mine.”

 

…......

 

As much as he hated to admit it, Catherine was completely correct. She did not know him well at all. The extent to which she understood him was better than most people, but it was still an incomplete understanding regardless.

 _I'd rather not talk about it_ , he thought as Catherine rolled her eyes. _I trust you, but it's not your burden to bear. Plain and simple._

Letting out a sigh, Catherine kissed Levi again; he noticed her grip around his neck tighten considerably, and he pulled her closer to him.

 _I'll do whatever I can to keep you happy_. _That's all I want at this point for us now._

Levi could feel one of Catherine's hands wander to the front of his shirt, tugging at the small buttons, pulling them out of place one by one.

 _You say this is complicated, but you're really not making it any better by doing this,_ he thought, gently grabbing her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. He felt her hips push against his, the fabric of her pants rubbing against his.

“God, woman, I get it,” he hissed as she tried to pull her hand free of his grip. Her other hand was already pulling at his belt buckle, and she let out a sharp sigh through her nose in response.

“...Just let me forget the last thirty minutes,” she murmured. “I don't want to think about it anymore.”

 _Okay, but at some point you're gonna have to_ , Levi thought as he released her hand. _We both are._

But, if he had to be entirely honest with himself, Levi did not want to think any more about it for a while, either. There was no obvious solution to their problems; it was not something that they would be able to solve in a day.

Learning to connect with each other mentally or emotionally was still something that they were trying to do, but they could connect physically. They had done it time and time again by now.

Lying back on Catherine's bed, Levi pulled at her shirt, tugging it up and over her head. She shuddered at his touch, then leaned down to kiss him; her hair draped down onto his face and neck, and he grabbed a handful of it, pulling her off of him long enough for him to push her onto her back.

Her lips welcomed his, and he pushed his tongue into her mouth, against hers, as deeply as she would let him. The kiss left them both gasping for breath, but Catherine recovered first.

“...God...please do that again...”

Levi could see that her eyes were watering, and it startled him. He was not sure if they were tears, or if he had caused them.

 _...I'm so fucked_ , he thought as Catherine tugged at her pants, pulling them down. _God, I'm too attached. I wasn't supposed to care...about any of this..._

“...Levi...?”

... _But I love her_.

Kissing her again, Levi placed a hand on her neck. He could feel a faint pulse under his fingertips, hastened with adrenaline, but still steady and rhythmic. With that simple, gentle intimacy, he felt as if he had learned something new about her.

 _...It's inevitable,_ he realized, running his free hand through her hair. _At this rate, I'm just...going to get more and more attached to her... Fine. I'm...okay with that now. ...I want to know her better now._

 


	23. From the South

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad moves ahead with the hope of reaching another clue to the Titans' nature.

“Odd.”

“Yeah, you are odd. What's your point? Just now figuring that out?”

Despite Jean's snarky response, Armin did not say anything more. Yasmin watched as the former grew more openly impatient.

“What's odd?” he snapped, and Armin jumped.

“Eh? What?” he gasped.

“You just said 'odd' and then didn't say anything else,” Yasmin said with a quiet laugh.

“It's his first day back--cut him some slack,” Claus sighed, shaking his head. Yasmin only smiled at Claus, then turned back to Armin. She, Olivia, Claus, and Bianca had continued to meet without fail since Commander Erwin's execution; however, Jean and Armin had been absent multiple times after that, and today was the first day that all six of them had met in almost two weeks. Squad Leader Catherine, as well as Captain Levi, were still absent, but that did not mean they could not work on their own.

“Ah, I wasn't aware that I had spoken out loud,” Armin admitted, his cheeks flushing pink. “I just--I've noticed something in this book I've been working on.”

“What is it?” Bianca asked.

“...I might just be overthinking things, but I just realized that all of the accounts of the weather, the seasons, the crops, and so on, refer to the 'south,'” Armin explained. “There's never any mention of any other region.”

“The south?” Olivia echoed. “Do you mean, like, _our_ south?”

“Maybe? That's what I'm not sure about yet...” Armin thumbed through his notes. “But all of the details match what I know about that region's climate and agriculture. ...But...why...?”

“That might just be where the civilization was based,” Yasmin suggested. “It's not like there was always a war against the Titans like this, right? Maybe before all of this happened, they were invested in something else, like a certain crop or trade route, or something like that.”

“Wait,” Bianca murmured. “I've not had any mention of the exact region in what I'm reading, but it definitely doesn't match any part of the central section of the walls.”

“What book are you on?” Armin asked. She held up what appeared to be a small almanac.

“It's just statistics on the crops yielded per season, but now that you point it out, it does seem to be set in a southern region.”

“Has anyone found a book that mentions migration, though?” Jean spoke up. “I mean, it could just be happenstance, like what Yas said.”

Before Yasmin could open her mouth to reply, she heard a soft click, and she whipped her head toward the door.

“Ahh... I thought I heard voices in here...”

“Squad Leader!” Claus exclaimed as Catherine poked her head into the room. She had a blanket slung around her shoulders, and she looked as if she had been sleepless for days on end.

“You guys should rest,” she told them quietly. “It's only going to get harder from here.”

“That's why we're meeting now,” Olivia laughed, and Catherine smiled gently.

“...You guys are hard to keep up with,” she chuckled, then entered the classroom. Yasmin noted how oddly gaunt she seemed, even in her everyday clothing. If she looked like this, then what did Captain Levi...?

 _I shouldn't think about it_ , Yasmin told herself, pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind.

“All students surpass their teachers someday,” Bianca murmured with a knowing smirk, and Catherine rolled her eyes in response as she slowly sat down at the table.

“But it's really good timing on your part!” Armin said enthusiastically.

“Oh?” Catherine raised an eyebrow. “Why's that?”

“I noticed something pretty odd about the material I've been working on--it focuses only on what appears to be a region south of where we are now.”

“This almanac also has statistics based on what seems to be a southern region,” Bianca added.

“...Interesting,” Catherine murmured, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Have any of the rest of you found something similar?”

“No, but I haven't been paying attention,” Jean sighed.

“Are we sure it matters?” Claus asked.

“Yes, duh.” Olivia shot him a look before turning to Catherine. “When have there _ever_ been reports of Titans coming from the _north_?”

Yasmin narrowed her eyes as she looked down at her notes. She had never really given that trend any thought before this, but there had to be a reason for it, right?

“Bianca? Any ideas?” Catherine turned to the Police soldier, who was flipping through her notes in silence.

“...This isn't an idea, necessarily, but another thing I've noticed before is that this language most closely resembles the dialect spoken in the southern regions of the walls,” Bianca said after a few moments of silence.

“Do we really have any evidence from the north that proves it?” Jean asked, sounding skeptical.

“You all may not, but in the Police, there are far more soldier from the north than the south,” Claus pointed out. “I bet if we put the handwriting of a North soldier next to one of ours, it'd be different.”

 

…......

 

Jean frowned as he quickly flipped through his notes. He had tried to be as thorough as possible, yet he had missed this potentially crucial detail. But at least he had not been the only one.

“...I can't believe I didn't think about this before,” Yasmin murmured from beside him. She, too, had started flipping through her notes; she had taken a hell of a lot more than him, too, and it seemed something had dawned on her.

“What?” he mumbled, leaning over to look at her notes.

“The book I've been going through specifically mentions being near the ocean,” she told him. “In the _north_.”

“In the north?” Catherine echoed, standing up and leaning over the table to look at the notes. She stared at them for a moment, then sat back down in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “...So, what do you all think we can conclude from this?”

“I wonder how far north?” Olivia hummed. “Must be farther than the eye can see from the northern walls--otherwise we'd know for sure there's such a thing as the 'ocean' out that way, right?”

“That's a good point,” Armin agreed.

“What's the date of publication of your books?” Bianca asked. Jean pulled out his and flipped through the first few pages. “...One of mine had one, but the other didn't.”

“Mine doesn't, either,” Jean sighed.

“Mine does!” Yasmin gasped. “...Kind of. It's six-hundred-something.” She opened the book and placed it in the center of the table for everyone to look at.

“...I can't make it out,” Claus muttered.

“Regardless--it's dated earlier than mine,” Bianca told them, placing her almanac next to Yasmin's book. “Seven-hundred twenty-four.”

“So, sometime between Yasmin's book and this almanac...that civilization would have had to relocate,” Jean concluded.

“I believe that's correct,” Catherine confirmed, nodding.

“And, because the language resembles the southern dialect more, we might be able to assume that they flourished in the south,” Yasmin added. “Otherwise, wouldn't the northern dialect have been more prevalent?”

“Not exactly,” Catherine replied. She stood from her seat and walked over to the chalkboard, then drew three circles on the board, obviously meant to represent the walls. “Say a language starts in this district--say that, for instance, they all start calling everyone 'Miss', regardless of social status or sex.” Catherine made a star on the northernmost point of the outer wall. “If those people trickle down, then their dialect will, too.”

Jean watched as Catherine drew a dotted line down through the territories headed south.

“Now, say that takes, for instance, seventy-five years,” Catherine went on. “Seventy-five years to reach the southernmost point. But, by then, our starting point? The dialect will have already changed. That's the nature of language.”

“...In other words, the dialect from the south is...the original north?” Yasmin asked.

“Exactly.” Catherine gave her a small smile, and Jean could see a look of pride in her eyes. “Which is why it's entirely possible that they could have been just as progressive in the north before migrating.”

“I see...”

“...In fact, wouldn't it make it more likely that they simply started over in the south?” Olivia then pointed out.

“That's certainly another possibility.” Catherine set down the piece of chalk softly. “...I can see that you've all burned your brains to a crisp already. Let's stop for today.”

“...Thank you for joining us,” Yasmin told Catherine quietly as they all started to gather their things.

“It was good to have you back,” Jean agreed in a low voice; he was not even sure if Catherine heard him at first, until he glanced up and saw the gentle smile on her face.

“...It was good to be back,” she murmured. “...I'll see you all next time.”

 

 


	24. Hidden Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strong bond is made as Rosaleen, Nikoleta, and Lucia finally connect their information, and their pasts.

No matter how many times she repeated it in her head, Rosaleen could hardly believe it was true.

Commander Erwin was dead.

The thought echoed inside her mind as she rode from Garrison headquarters to the Hermiha district to report to Lucia.

 _He still had so much left to do_ , she thought, pursing her lips as her eyes started to water again. If there was one thing in this world that she would never get used to, it was losing people too soon, before they had reached their full potential. Honestly, she had never thought about losing Commander Erwin, mostly because she was a Garrison soldier. Commander Pyxis was much older, for starters, and lately, their soldiers had been more active outside the walls than the Survey Corps with search missions. Commander Erwin had seemed like a permanent part of her military experience.

But there was just no such thing in this world. Everything was transient.

 _I don't know why I ever think something_ _ **won't**_ _be_. Sometimes she had to scold herself like this, to remind herself to get a grip on reality. ... _God, it's been almost three years..._

No, there was certainly nothing that Rosaleen could consider permanent anymore.

Three years ago, her sister had been alive and thriving, she had lived a good life with her friends, and the future of humanity had held more hope.

As she hopped down from her horse and guided her into the stall, Rosaleen squeezed her eyes shut. It had been several weeks since Eren had been kidnapped, but she still felt a burning hatred in her chest.

She had been on guard duty that night--she normally did not work overnight shifts, but one of her comrades was sick with a stomach flu, and she volunteered to take the shift in his stead. Had she not, she never would have witnessed it.

The familiar explosion, meters away from the wall. The strange burning smell. The sight of the armored Titan lunging forward, out into the depths of Wall Maria's territory.

_...Reiner..._

Rosaleen had gotten along well with Bertholdt and Reiner in their trainee days. She had respected how hard they worked, and though they had started out shy, they had both warmed up to her in time. They were comrades, friends...and traitors.

Several people had told her about Eren's account--how Reiner seemed to have a split personality--but Rosaleen could not simply blame his actions on that.

 _It was a conscious choice_ , she reminded herself as she walked into the news office.

“Hello!” Beaure greeted her, and she smiled.

“How's it goin' today?” she asked, pushing a few stray hairs from her face.

“Busy, as usual.” He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Lu's in her office--you want some tea?”

“Thank you!”

Rosaleen always loved the busy atmosphere of the publication office. Even though not very many people worked in the building, they seemed to be always moving, and there were also a lot of people coming and going, such as herself.

Lucia's office, however, seemed to always be the quietest place in the building. Her door was almost always closed, as if she had to shut herself away to focus on her writing.

“Lucia?” Rosaleen called out as she knocked on the door. “It's Rosaleen Johnson!”

“Come on in!”

Lucia's office smelled strongly of ink, but Rosaleen did not mind it anymore. These days, she got used to it the moment she opened the door.

“How are you doing today?” Rosaleen asked her. Lucia looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Busy, as usual,” she replied. “Have a seat--”

Lucia gestured to an open chair--it was then that Rosaleen noticed another person in the office. She wore a Military Police uniform, and her hazel eyes narrowed in slight confusion as she looked up at Rosaleen.

“Ah, you--seem familiar?” Rosaleen breathed, stepping toward the soldier. She held out her hand. “My name's Rosaleen Johnson.”

“Nikoleta Kyrgiakos.” The young woman hand a strong handshake, and Rosaleen suddenly remembered where she had seen her before.

“Ahh, I remember now!” Rosaleen released Nikoleta's hand and tapped her head. “At the ball! You were with Armin, right? I knew I had seen you before!”

“...You know Armin, then?” Nikoleta asked quietly raising her eyebrows.

“Yes--he's my friend! We graduated in the same class, too.”

 

…......

 

Nikoleta had only heard Rosaleen's name in passing before this, but she had never really been interested to know more about her. They did not appear to have much in common, after all. However, knowing someone who called Armin their friend and was not involved in the affairs of the Police or the Corps was new for her.

“The 104th class, then?” Nikoleta asked.

“Yep!” Rosaleen grinned brightly as she sat down. “You didn't, though, right? You're...one grade down...?”

“Yes, the 105th class.”

“Ahhh, okay, okay!” Rosaleen turned to Lucia, then said, “So, anything new? Anything we both should know while we're here?”

 _Don't just change the subject like that..._ Nikoleta wanted to say, furrowing her brow.

“Not anything you don't already know,” Lucia sighed. “...Erwin's execution is still the biggest topic on hand. Nikoleta shared with me a few details from the Police side of things, but...it's nothing really surprising or exciting.”

“Just a general delay of decision-making, as per usual,” Nikoleta muttered, picking a loose thread off of her jacket.

“Hahh, I see...” Rosaleen folded her arms across her chest. “...We don't have any more news from the search parties, either. Which means one of two things--either they've not found anything and have nothing to report back, or they've all died on the field...”

The room fell silent, and Nikoleta glanced at Lucia. She knew that Lucia's fiance was in the Survey Corps; surely she knew that it would only be a matter of time until they, too, joined the Garrison search parties.

“...No news is good news,” Lucia assured her. “We'll just leave it at that, then.”

“If that's the case, then I should be leaving soon,” Nikoleta announced, standing from her seat. Just as she took her first step toward the door, it opened, and Beaure appeared from the other side.

“Oh, tea!” Rosaleen exclaimed in excitement. “Thank you so much!”

“Thank you,” Lucia murmured, smiling at Beaure. “Hopefully you made a cup for yourself, too--it's still cold outside.”

“I keep warm running around in the office,” Beaure laughed. He handed a cup to Nikoleta, and she had no choice but to graciously accept it and sit back down.

“...So, Bruno's been behaving himself, then?” Lucia asked once Beaure left the room.

“...Yes, for the time being,” Nikoleta murmured.

“Ahh, you must be in the elite squad,” Rosaleen said, taking a sip of tea. “That explains how you know Armin, too!”

“Armin's the one you introduced me to at the ball, right?” Lucia added, and Nikoleta nodded. “He seems like a good person.”

“He is.”

“He is,” Rosaleen agreed, “but didn't he also kill someone?”

“What?” Nikoleta mumbled. This was the first she had heard of it.

“Oh, yeah, back when there was a fight with the Central Police squad.” Lucia hummed to herself. “If memory serves, based on Mikasa's account, it was to save Jean Kirschstein.”

Nikoleta sat back in her chair, stunned. This whole time, she had taken Armin for someone who was certainly goal-oriented, but not brutal. He did not seem like the type to choose physical action over words.

“He shot the soldier point-blank,” Lucia continued. “Pretty incredible.”

“I could never do that,” Rosaleen chuckled, shaking her head. “I'd panic for sure.”

Though Nikoleta could not bring herself to speak, her thoughts were clear. _That_ was the kind of person he really was. He did not turn in fear when faced with difficult choices.

_And that's why Bruno is grooming him. I see._

Nikoleta finished her tea without a word, then stood from her seat once again.

“It was nice meeting you,” she said to Rosaleen with a small smile. “I'm sure we'll cross paths again.”

“Yes, I hope so!” Rosaleen exclaimed cheerfully, giving her a little wave.

“See you again soon,” Lucia murmured, nodding. “Stay safe.”

“I will. Don't worry.”

 _Yes...everything makes sense now_ , Nikoleta thought as she left Lucia's office. Her heart was burning with purpose, and she narrowed her eyes. This determination inside of her would not fade quickly, not now that she understood the true strength of one of her greatest allies.

It occurred to her as she mounted her horse that Rosaleen, too, had graduated with the group of traitors that had broken down the walls.

 _Next time I see her...I should find out what she knows..._ Nikoleta told herself. _Not just about the traitors...but about the actions Armin took to stop them...because now I know...he would not have just stood idly by..._

 


End file.
